


King's Dagger and Queen's Angel

by SKayLanphear



Category: Final Fantasy IX
Genre: Angst, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Post-Canon, Second Chances, Zidane never came back, honestly some of the cutest fucking scenes you will ever read, maybe some smut, not sure yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:15:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 59,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21827323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SKayLanphear/pseuds/SKayLanphear
Summary: Zidane never returned following the war, leaving his friends to assume the worst. Garnet’s had to move on with her life as best she can, but some of the things Zidane left behind will always weigh on her heart. Zidane, meanwhile, had intended to return to Alexandria, but life put him on a different path—one not unlike Garnet’s own in the advent of rescuing thousands of genomes from the ruins of Terra. But—as many others silently realize—it’s inevitable that their paths cross once again.
Relationships: Beatrix & Adelbert Steiner, Garnet Til Alexandros XVII/Zidane Tribal
Comments: 75
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

"I suppose you're here to give me an update?"

"Would you prefer I not?"

Zidane would have scoffed had he not grown so accustomed to Mikoto's personality. "No, no," he replied, pulling his last remaining glove into place before turning to face her. "I should be used to it by now. But, ya know, got to try and fight the monotony somehow."

"I find the monotony of our current existence comforting," she reasoned. "It means things are moving along smoothly."

Zidane had only a thoughtful hum to offer in response.

Which caused Mikoto to release a light sigh. "There were another 3,047 genomes salvaged during the night. Of them, 144 did not survive, while 382 will suffer from physical disabilities for the remainder of their existence. The rest should recover."

"What's that bring the total to now?" Zidane asked, his legs beginning to feel anxious with the desire to do something. Pushing past Mikoto, he lifted the flap of his small, dingy tent before making his way across the snowy ground. Despite the early hours of dawn only just being upon them, the clearing was crowded and bustling with genomes. All of them working, all of them toiling. They struggled toward one goal—survival on the limited supplies they'd found in what was left of Terra.

"Somewhere near 1,151,000," Mikoto replied as she followed at his tail.

"Then that's close to all the likely survivors, right?"

"Yes. The final batch Garland produced were the gold variety, which had brought the total number of genomes to 2,000,000, though room should be given for the genome propensity of creating more genomes."

"But there's still a chance some are alive and missing."

"It is likely that most of what remain will never be found," she went on as they weaved their way between tents and other temporary housing structures. "They may be expired, or buried beneath the debris. Or obliterated."

"We still need to make sure we check everywhere," Zidane insisted, stopping for only a moment to help a skinny genome in lifting a large crate, before continuing on. "We can't leave any of them behind."

Mikoto frowned. "Your concern over the wellbeing of vessels still perplexes me. They are not like you and I. Have you yet to understand this?"

"They didn't ask to be made, Mikoto," he said simply. "And they don't deserve to be abandoned simply by default of their existence being… meaningless."

"They don't have souls."

"Do you honestly believe that?"

A question that left her silent.

"I know you can see it as well as I can," he went on. "They're not just… mindless drones. Something is happening. They're… becoming more." He could see it in their choices, in their frustration with their situation, in reactions to him and others. Every day, he saw a little more.

"I have to wonder if it has to do with the destruction of Terra and Pandemonium," Mikoto started, the two of them pausing in a circle clearing between two tent outposts. Many of the genomes watched them as they wandered by, but none dared approach. "Garland had been storing Terran souls there. But when Kuja destroyed everything…"

"You think the genomes have absorbed those souls?"

"It's impossible to know for certain," she said. "But be it from souls or from memories, the genomes are… developing. We were made to absorb souls, after all."

"It's good," Zidane said, putting his hands on his hips with a nod. "It means they're beginning to think for themselves. Becoming individuals."

"Perhaps. But with free-thinking comes the threat of strife," Mikoto countered. "We will hardly survive here much longer. Tensions will only intensify with our rising numbers."

"Yeah, we are running out of space, aren't we?" They could only set up camp on the ruins of Shimmering Island for so long. They were already covering nearly all the available surface area, which was considerable even with the center of the island blown apart.

"We will have to move on soon."

"Yeah. I mean, there's a lot of them, but I'm sure they can integrate into cities on Gaia. They learn fast." After all, they couldn't send over a million genomes to the Black Mage Village. The village was set up for only a couple hundred, not the population Garland had been aiming for.

"You know that's not the answer," Mikoto said coldly, drawing Zidane's curious gaze her way. "We do not belong in Gaian cities."

Frowning, Zidane twined his fingers behind his head. "Well, that's about the only option we have."

"The genomes will be taken advantage of," she reasoned. "Fast learners they may be, but adapting to such culture would be impossible. They are the equivalent of children in both body and new soul development. Not even you have reached maturity yet, as Garland said. You send them to their doom if you insist on integrating with the other populations of Gaia this soon."

Zidane cocked a skeptical eyebrow. "I think you might be exaggerating a bit there, Sis."

"I'm not." Turning away, she looked out across the camp with stiff shoulders. "The genomes are not prepared for a world beyond their own. But they are fully capable of building and maturing. They would do better to build a home of their own, away from the influences of Gaia."

"You mean like another Bran Bal?"

"Some place new. Some place all our own."

Zidane screwed up one side of his mouth. "I suppose that's possible too, but where would they go?"

"There is plenty of uninhabited land on Gaia. Certainly there is someplace we can make our own."

"Probably. I guess that plan is as good as any. Whatever you think is best."

Turning back to him, Mikoto was visibly frowning. Which said a lot as she was generally lacking in expression altogether. "My opinion is hardly the one that is most relevant."

"You keep saying that…"

"You can't ignore your place in all of this," she went on. "It is because of you that the genomes have been rescued. Because of you that they have found new purpose. You're the one that came to the Black Mage Village to retrieve us so we could salvage our peers. You're the one that inspired the effort. Yet you act as though you could abandon us at any moment."

Zidane huffed. "It's been nearly a year," he said softly. "I want to go home at some point, you know? The genomes don't need me to make a place for themselves."

"Of course they need you," Mikoto snapped, her tone taking Zidane somewhat by surprise. "You are Garland's prized and perfect genome—all other genomes know and recognize you. You have always been the guide that would lead us into a new world, even if that new world has now changed. You can't abandon your people now, after putting so much effort into saving them. After creating hope."

"Hope?" Zidane nearly laughed. "All I did was try and make sure as many as possible could get free. It's basic decency."

"You underestimate your own actions. The genomes look to you not only as a symbol, but as a leader. I know you know this, yet you continue to pretend it's not true."

"I can't stay with the genomes, Mikoto," Zidane said lowly, his gaze drifting to the southern horizon. "I have… people waiting for me."

"And what about the people here that have come to depend upon you? What of your responsibility to them?"

"I didn't ask for this."

"Nor did they, yet here we are. I had little care for my fellows before I met you," she admitted. "It was through your example that I have learned. And it has been the same for the others. Your influence has rippled through _your_ people. What are they to do if you leave?"

Zidane grit his teeth.

"What are we to do if you abandon us now? When you are most needed?" Her breath shook, before she quickly collected herself. "You are the only one with knowledge of Gaia. We have our books and our studies, but it does not measure up to your unique experience. Without you, I fear we will not survive."

"I'm sure you'd all make it. You've come this far."

"Then you do intend to leave. No matter what I say, nothing can make you stay."

"Mikoto…"

"You do not see the value the genomes place in you. Some keep going because they know no better, while others have learned to press on only because you inspire them to do so. What will it teach them if you leave? What kind of scar will that leave behind after so much toil and confusion?"

"You're putting too much pressure on me. I'm just one guy out of—of more than a million!"

"You're our savior, if not by design, then by your actions."

"Then what am I supposed to do?!" he snapped.

Their gazes locked, hers steady while Zidane tried vainly to break away. "You stay," she murmured. "Please."

The silence weighed heavily between them, echoing the tension that was gradually building all over the island. It was cramped and dirty and supplies were getting dangerously low, but they were doing it. They were making it. If only because Zidane had decided that they needed to try.

Head hanging, he sighed. "When does the next ship come up to the surface?"

"It should already be docked," Mikoto replied. "Are you going to join the next team in entering the portal?"

"Yeah," he said stiffly. "Yeah, I guess I am." Hands on his hips, he remained standing in the clearing a moment longer—staring at the snow—before he shook his head and kept walking. Mikoto followed along behind, quiet for the moment.

Zidane did all he could to wrestle with his thoughts. He'd never intended for any of this to happen. But Kuja destroying Bran Bal implied more than just the destruction of one settlement, or so Zidane had come to realize. Terra was a planet unto itself, existing inside Gaia after a failed fusion. And though it's original populations had perished, it had fallen to Garland to create vessels that would eventually overtake Gaia's natural populations. While Zidane didn't agree with this notion, he couldn't very well ignore the strides Garland had made either. He'd been designing a population for an entire planet—it was foolish to assume the genomes they'd evacuated from Bran Bal were the only ones.

He'd asked Mikoto about it, upon returning to the Black Mage Village. She'd verified his fears, saying that it'd been a considerate thought, saving the genomes of Bran Bal, but that they were just a fraction of the genomes inhabiting Terra. Terra, which would soon fuse with Gaia entirely and likely perish as a result of its crystal being so weak. Thus, all the other genomes with it.

Zidane hadn't been willing to accept that, and so had enlisted the couple hundred genomes they'd saved to start evacuating Terra before it was too unstable. With all of Garland's defenses and carefully calibrated filters destroyed, the planets were already beginning to fuse, which meant they'd had limited time to get the genomes to Gaia's surface. It was because what Mikoto claimed was true that they'd been as successful as they were. Even the oldest batches of genomes—unaged without souls—knew of what Zidane was and why Garland had created him. Such information had been shared through some kind of planetary link—another way in which the genomes has kept their minds stimulated. Which meant that—in the advent of Garland's demise—they'd been happy to do as Zidane said. Mikoto as well. For every genome they'd saved, they'd gotten another helping hand. Another genome to save another life. To evacuate another part of Terra or pull others from the rubble left behind in Kuja's wake.

Knowing how many there were, Zidane couldn't just leave them to die. He had to save them. But for how long was he expected to do so? He'd thought that—once they were free of Terra—his role would have come to an end. The genomes were hard workers, after all. They possessed exemplary community building skills, able to work together in the most rational manner without much in the way of complaint.

Perhaps it'd been too much to hope for, that such would just keep on and the genomes would be fine on their own. But with the population growing every day and the genomes learning more and more what it meant to be individuals, the more tension was building between them.

Maybe Mikoto was right, they did need a leader. But why did it have to be him? Hadn't he done enough already? Where would he even lead them to?

He didn't even know where to start and there were just… so many of them.

"The most recently recovered genomes have already disembarked," Mikoto said as they left the temporary tents behind for the shore. The coast was jagged, much like a cliff, but close enough to the water in some areas that they could board one of the many Terran ships they'd recovered. None but the ship that had belonged to Garland possessed the great eye or the capacity for harnessing souls, but they did the job of sinking beneath the water and going through the portal well enough. They weren't exactly made for water, but with a few adjustments, they'd made it possible for the ships to go far enough that they could reach the portal, after which they were skyborn once again.

"Then I had best catch that ship before it leaves again," Zidane decided, not wanting to wait for the next one. That'd leave him plenty of time to sit and think about things he'd rather ignore for the time being.

"I can have it ordered to wa—"

Mikoto was cut short when the ground beneath their feet trembled. It wasn't so severe as to knock them off balance, but it had both Zidane and his sister flicking their attention downward, while the genomes around them slowly came to a stop in their activities.

"What is that?" Zidane hissed out, the shaking continuing to jiggle his bones around inside his skin. It went on and on, constant and disconcerting.

"I don't know," Mikoto murmured back. "Is this normal behavior upon Gaia's surface?"

"No." Was the shaking getting worse? Zidane couldn't tell. It was so gradual he'd doubt he'd know until it was too late. "We need to evacuate," he decided abruptly, the words coming to him in tandem with his thoughts. "Get the faction leaders together and their ships running. Get everyone on board as quickly as possible."

Nodding, Mikoto didn't ask a single question before she was sprinting back into the camp. While Zidane, thoughts still running a million miles a second, took a step closer to the water. Until he was on the very edge of the broken shoreline, where he could peer over into the sea.

Were the depths darker? The water rippled along with the shaking ground, but it couldn't mask entirely everything going on beneath its surface.

Hands balling into fists, Zidane felt his heart pick up in pace inside his chest.

Yes, the water was definitely darker. As if something huge and daunting were hiding beneath the surface.

No, not hiding, but, rather, surfacing.

Teeth gritted, Zidane reached back for his sword.

"Weapons such as that will do little against a foe like this."

Attention flicking quickly to the side, Zidane watched as Kuja approached the edge as well, though his form could hardly be considered casual. While his gaze was lazy and unamused, the rest of him limped along like a ball and chain, seeming to drag behind his every move—the result of Garland's time limit on his life combined with the genome's attempts to give him more time. A body held together with metal rods, brackets, and mist, as broken as the island around them. But it allowed him to keep going, though Zidane wasn't sure if his older brother was thankful for that or not.

"What is it?" Zidane asked seriously, peering again toward the water.

Kuja hummed. "Something new."

Zidane looked his way again. "That's hardly helpful."

"I know as little as you do," he admitted. "Only that—if it appears from the portal—it is unlike anything you've faced before."

"Yeah, well, that's kind of the story of my life so far," Zidane rebuked, deciding to ignore Kuja's warning and arm himself anyway. "You should go get on one of the ships. Mikoto has the genomes evacuating the island."

"No, I'll stay." He peered a little more severely into the water. "I may be of some use yet."

Zidane almost wanted to tell him that no one was useful if they were dead, which Kuja—with his broken body—likely would be. But in the end he decided against it. "Suit yourself."

And so, while the genomes flurried about behind them, they stood in wait, together.

**Chapter I**

_Seven Years After the War_

Gaze darting to the front edge of her desk, Garnet allowed her attention to linger only a moment before she was putting it back on the letters before her. Behind her, the shimmering sunlight of early morning was drifting in through the open windows, giving her enough natural light to work, as she did every morning. She wasn't yet dressed, still donning her thin nightdress and silk slippers. Perhaps some would think it was too early to already be at work, but she was quite accustomed to the schedule, using it much like an anchor to start every day. Even if others were intent on disrupting her.

Using a thin letter-opener, she pried at the Lindblum seal adorning one of her many letters, all while keeping a fraction of her attention trained on the lip of her desk. She pretended to ignore what was going on in front of it, out of sight, which would likely only inspire her disruptor to make his presence more acutely known.

As if on cue, two tiny hands appeared upon her desk, one holding the figure of an Alexandrian soldier while the other grasped a chocobo of much the same make. Together, they pranced along the edge of her desk, making it down one way before turning and trotting back.

Garnet continued to pretend not to notice, opening the letter from Regent Cid. She looked as though she were reading it, when in reality she was doing no such a thing. A small smile played on her lips as the Chocobo continued to be run down by the Alexandrian knight, before it inevitably cornered the chocobo, who—in an act of self-defense—turned and kicked the Alexandrian soldier across Garnet's desk, leaving it to role nearly into her lap.

"Well, that wasn't very nice," Garnet said, making no move to set the Alexandrian soldier right again. Instead, she merely "worked" around the toy.

In front of her, the top of a head slowly rose up above her desk—short, nearly black hair with a tiny horn protruding from the front. Which was eventually followed by a forehead that was crinkled in contemplation, furrowed eyebrows, and penetrating blue eyes.

"She deserved it," said a young, high-pitched voice. "You shouldn't chase chocobos to kill them." Those blue eyes turned to a glare, as if the whole predicament were Garnet's fault.

"I suppose not," she agreed.

The glare stayed on her for some moments, before the head, two hands, and chocobo figurine vanished once again. There was a bit of scuffling in front of her desk, before all went quiet. Gaze sidetracking to her left, Garnet set aside the Regent's letter and waited.

Only a few seconds passed before a vicious growl erupted through the whole room and a small boy jumped out, hands raised as though to scare her. But Garnet had expected the attack and, reaching out, grabbed the young man before he could run off, resulting in much of the growling becoming laughter as she hefted him into her arms and onto her lap.

"I'm trying to work, you know," she scolded lightly, touching him on the tip of his button nose. He just grinned, his long, dark tail whipping excitedly behind him as he resituated himself so he was more comfortable upon her thigh.

"But you're always working," he reasoned petulantly. "And I want to play."

"You know there's no time for playing right now," she said. "Dr. Tot will be here in thirty minutes and you've yet to have a bath."

"But _Mom_ , I don't wanna learn today… My head already hurts." He began to pout.

Garnet laughed. "I thought Mr. 747 was going to be coming with him today. Are you saying you don't want to work on your black magic studies?"

His eyes grew big. "Mr. 747 is coming today?! Really?!"

"Yes. And he's going to be staying here from now on," she continued.

"So I can start practicing my black magic for real?!"

"You can start studying it," Garnet corrected. "Which means doing exactly what Mr. 747 tells you to do." Stipulations that downed his excitement some, but not enough to sour his mood. Part of Garnet would prefer he not study black magic at all, if only because she knew the art was both powerful and dangerous. But as her son had a talent for it—as he did white magic and summoning—she couldn't very well keep ignoring it. If black magic was the only talent that resided within him, that would change things, but as he'd already taken up white magic, it'd only be a matter of time before he started using the same practices to start experimenting on the other side of the spectrum. He'd already tried once to disastrous results.

It was a fact of her son's existence that left Garnet curious. She knew where his summoning came from, as well as his white magic, but his father had never shown any propensity for black magic. True, many humans practiced limited black magic—many of her own soldiers as well as her general did so—but not to the degree and talent of black mages themselves. Yet her son seemed to be the exception, which had her thinking back on Kuja more so than the boy's father.

Then again, how much had she even known about Zidane? How much had he even known about himself?

"Is the prince in here?" Glancing up, Garnet looked to the door just as Steiner was walking through. It'd been a few years since his armor had gotten an upgrade, but he was still the same large, loud knight he'd always been, albeit possessing a gentleness only a few within the castle walls ever got to see.

While it was still plated and shined, he sported more well-fitting armor these days, though it'd taken considerable pestering from both Garnet and Beatrix to get him invested in a new set. He'd been determined that he was undeserving of such fine armor and was not in need of it anyhow. But they'd eventually won him over and even convinced him to take to wearing a tabard, if only to make him appear more regal in front of his men. Which was about as far as they could get, they both figured, what with Steiner determined that he need not stand out to do his job.

His constant frown remained in place, but it'd been softened some by the dark facial hair he'd grown (apparently Beatrix liked it, though Garnet had only heard such mutterings under the stoic knight's breath). He was older, as they all were, and his dark hair was receding some around his temples, but such things didn't seem to affect his natural stamina. Especially since he spent a good chunk of his day chasing after the prince.

"Yes, he's with me," Garnet verified as he came all the way through the door.

"Little rascal running off before I can come in to get him up, I see," Steiner observed as he made his way over. "You're quite the rambunctious one, Prince Avon."

Avon grinned up at him in response, not seeming the least bit ashamed of his actions. While Garnet cast Steiner a pitying look.

It was following Avon learning how to walk that Steiner had taken the boy under his wing completely. Which Garnet had tried to explain wasn't necessary—he didn't need to spend all day chasing the prince around the castle as they could find a maid perfectly capable of doing so. But Steiner would hear none of it. Just as he'd been Garnet's personal guard and kept a vigilant eye on everything she'd done, he'd do the same for Avon. No longer was Garnet in need of his guardianship, but the new prince couldn't bolster such confidence, especially in lieu of his father not being around.

While part of Garnet didn't want to trouble her ever-loyal knight with such responsibilities, another part of her knew that if anyone could protect Avon, it was Steiner. Besides, his boisterous personality was of constant entertainment to Avon, even if Steiner didn't always understand why.

"You need to take your bath, young prince," Steiner said as he cast Avon a stern look. "And get dressed for your lessons."

"Yeah, I know!" Avon said happily. "Mom just told me that Mr. 747 is coming to teach me!"

"Yes, yes, I heard that as well," Steiner went on. "Do you want his first impression of you to be of your pajamas?"

Avon's nose crinkled. "No."

"Then I suggest we get going."

Releasing a heavy sigh, Avon turned back to Garnet, who offered him an encouraging smile. As if that was all he needed to be in better sorts, he was leaping down to the floor before sprinting around her desk. He looked to run right out the door, but Steiner grabbed his hand before he could, holding him back at a more proper pace. Avon had a propensity for getting distracted and rushing off to do other things, so it was best to keep him close when necessary things needed doing.

"C'mon, Pickle!" Avon called as he and Steiner reached the door. "It's bath time!"

Shuffling out from beneath Garnet's bed, a small, black moogle with a red pompom scurried toward the door, tripping once as Steiner and Avon disappeared into the hall, before it too was out of sight.

Garnet remained staring at the open door for some moments, before giving into a sigh and pushing herself to her feet. Turning, she looked for a moment out the window. Across the water to the city beyond. Not everything was repaired from the attack seven years prior, but they'd rebuilt from the debris and finally things seemed to be getting back on track. Not just in Alexandria, but all over Gaia. It was comforting that even after such devastation, her people and the people of the world could bounce back.

Just as she could, even as she carried her own sorrows.

"Your Highness?"

Turning, Garnet faced Beatrix, who was now standing just inside her doorway. She appeared much the same as she always had, though she sported the beginnings of a few wrinkles.

It was the same as every morning. Sometimes Avon would visit, sometimes he would already be rushed into dressing. And then Beatrix would be there, ready to help Garnet in her own morning routine. As general, Beatrix shouldn't be burdened with such responsibilities as waiting on her queen, but Garnet would have no one else waiting on her anyway, while Beatrix defended her actions with the notion of friendship between them.

Garnet wasn't sure if that was actually the case, or if Beatrix worried she'd be lonely in her self-inflicted isolation. Truth be told, Garnet was exceedingly private. As her position didn't allow for privacy in her "work life," what little she could get she kept to herself. That wasn't to say she didn't have friends. She did, but they didn't live within the castle walls. A negative, she supposed, in having made her closest friends while travelling outside her kingdom.

"I was just about to begin dressing," she assured Beatrix, before leaving the window to head toward her wardrobe.

Beatrix, meanwhile, wandered toward her desk, looking as though she meant only to skim the documents sitting atop it, as she often did. Generally speaking, Garnet didn't keep any political secrets from her general, wanting their trust to be solid, and so she didn't mind. But where Beatrix would have normally turned her attention to the window, she instead furrowed her brow and reached for the letter from the regent.

"What is this?" she asked, drawing Garnet's attention from her wardrobe.

"I haven't had the chance to actually read it yet," Garnet admitted. "Why?"

Postponing her dressing, she returned to her desk and took the letter as Beatrix handed it over to her.

_My Dearest Queen Garnet Til Alexandros;_

_While I would typically inquire into your health and well-being, I think the current situation calls for a more prudent attitude. Included in this letter is another I received not long ago that I would most like to know your opinion on. If you could read it before continuing with my own script, that would dissuade any confusion about the rest of what I have to say._

Brow furrowing, Garnet sifted through the layers of the letter until she came upon the one Cid spoke of. It was easy to single out, as it was made up of a smooth, starkly white sort of parchment that she'd never seen before. The writing upon it was fine and faultless, done so in a deep blue ink.

_His Majesty, the Regent of Lindblum, Cid Fabool IX, in all respects and admirations;_

_I suppose—at the moment you set your eyes upon the letter before you—your curiosity must be already piqued. It is for this reason, and because I believe in all efficiency, that I will make my intents promptly known to you. You do not know me, or rather, not as I am now. We have met, though your memory may serve you injustice as it was a vague, short acquaintance. Not that any more or less should be expected. My past ties do little to address the current subject as my present circumstance has become quite altered by contrast. I address you now as the Chief Chancellor of our great Kingdom of Terra._

"Terra…?" Garnet asked aloud, already quite startled by the claims of the letter.

_My point in addressing you is that, as the largest of all the kingdoms of the Mist Continent, we would like to initiate the beginnings of trade agreements with you and your people. As a great nation, you have much that would benefit us and we believe that we have much to offer you in return. Though we have been self-sustaining since the formation of our kingdom, it has been an avid desire of many of my cohorts that we open our country up to outside sources, strengthening not only ourselves, but all the peoples of Gaia. Through you, we hope to begin a peaceful transaction of goods between our two great kingdoms. Your leadership is most praised by our king and, though he does not personally address you now, he would be more than willing to meet for an appropriate council to discuss such matters in the future._

_Recognizing that our kingdom is far further than your current trade partners, we would be more than willing to come to you on such matters until a proper contract could be drawn up. With high hopes of forming a peaceful relationship with the Regency of Lindblum, I write my final words. Thank you for your time and I hope you will consider our proposal._

_Included with this letter are but a few examples of the trade goods we could offer in return for your cooperation._

_With hopeful thoughts and kind considerations, we await your response._

_Respectfully,_

_Chief Chancellor Mikoto Et Tribal Van Garland_

"Mikoto?" Garnet said, even more surprised than she had been previously. Returning to the letter from Cid, she handed what she'd just read over to Beatrix.

_As you can likely tell, I was quite taken aback by the letter. While my I pride myself on my mental faculties and do in fact remember a genome by the name of Mikoto, I can't say I possess the knowledge to fathom any sort of Terran Kingdom or the like. I assume that—as you and your companions once travelled all over Gaia—you would have known of such a place as well. And as it is named for the failed planet that attempted to fuse with our own, I can only assume this "kingdom" is newly established following the war. But even so, I was under the impression that the genome numbers were small—not at all large enough to justify a "kingdom." I am, therefore, at an impasse as far as what to think. I have, of course, invited "Chancellor" Mikoto to the castle as a result of this letter, but what to expect when she gets here I know not._

_I send this letter to you if only because you are more familiar with Chancellor Mikoto than I am and because I trust your knowledge more so than my own in this situation. Was Mikoto not the genome who Sir Zidane once likened to a sister? I realize he is not here to cast his own judgement on the subject, but as you knew him best, your own opinion is of considerable value._

_Truth be told, I am not certain what I am asking you pertaining to this subject, but rather I desire to make you aware of it so as to garner whatever opinion you may have. As a result, I would like to extend an invitation to you to visit Lindblum. I realize it is short notice as we are both very busy people, but the Festival of the Masks is coming up soon, which might be an adequate excuse should you feel inclined. I would be much more interested in speaking to you in person about this subject than via letters, as I think it would be far more efficient._

_As always, best wishes and regards,_

_Regent Cid Fabool IX_

"Curious indeed," Beatrix said once she'd finished reading all the letters as well. "I was under the impression that the genomes had made a home with the black mages, but apparently that is not the case?"

A question Garnet couldn't answer. Following the war, her entire focus had been—initially—on recovering own kingdom, and then Avon once she'd learned of her predicament. The Black Mages would visit occasionally, but generally kept to themselves. And never had she heard of a genome venturing into any of their cities, though she supposed she wouldn't necessarily be any the wiser if they had. She'd made no impromptu trips to the Black Mage village since she'd returned to Alexandria, so she had no way of knowing what the genomes had been up to.

If only Vivi had kept in contact, yet he'd seemingly cut ties with all of them—Garnet and the friends she'd made during her adventures—following the war. She'd attempted to keep in contact with him via letters, but her correspondents had always been returned, another black mage having always written that Vivi was currently gone from the Black Mage Village and, therefore, unavailable.

But returning to the genomes, she did have to agree with Cid that it seemed unrealistic that they'd have formed some kind of kingdom of their own, as her original party had only saved some couple hundreds of them when they'd fled Bran Bal. Yet, she also wasn't the type to assume others knew not what they did, meaning that if Mikoto claimed to be representative of a kingdom, then Garnet would believe so until she saw otherwise. She'd learned the hard way that many things in the world were not what they appeared and that her own understandings were oftentimes limited.

"Do you intend to go to Lindblum, then?" Beatrix asked a few moments later, pulling Garnet from her thoughts.

"Perhaps," she said slowly, before sitting down behind her desk and looking over the letters once again. "Though I don't know what good my going will do until we know more. I am at as much of a loss as Uncle Cid."

"But you are also the only source he may have outside of the 'Terrans' themselves," Beatrix pointed out. "Avon's father was a genome, after all, and 'brother' to this Mikoto."

"True, but Zidane knew as little as any of the rest of us."

"I doubt that is the point."

Which Garnet knew perfectly well. Invited for her opinion she may have been, but it was also a matter of diplomatic course. The regent was dealing with something none of them knew anything about and so it fell to allies to converge, if only as a defense against the unknown. After all, it was one of these very genomes that had caused strife all over Gaia and destroyed—albeit indirectly through Garnet's mother—all of the major kingdoms on the Mist continent. The subject of such people was not, therefore, to be taken lightly.

"I suppose we should go," Garnet ultimately decided. "It will be easier to discuss the subject in person, and Avon will be excited to attend the Festival of the Masks." She'd have to rearrange her schedule, but what was the point of being queen if she couldn't do as she pleased once in a while? Besides, no one could rightfully complain about an emergency conference with Alexandria's closest ally.

"I will begin the arrangements," Beatrix replied, bowing some as she did. "How large of a party would you desire attend?"

"Not large," Garnet said. "You know I prefer not to make a scene."

Beatrix nodded, before she turned and headed back out the way she'd originally come. Less was more was a lesson Beatrix had had to learn after having served Brahne for so long. Where Garnet preferred to remain behind the scenes to observe, her mother had always been more of a showman, therefore demanding large numbers of guards and soldiers whenever she'd travelled.

It was a fact that Garnet supposed she could owe to her adventures. Prior, she may not have thought twice about the number of soldiers trailing her, but the independence of being away combined with her own experience in combat had left her feeling stifled surrounded by so many soldiers. Soldiers she was sure were less capable of protecting her than she was herself. It was for this reason that Beatrix only brought a few, mostly for the sake of upholding Alexandria's image. But they never went with Garnet anywhere. Only Beatrix and Steiner were allowed that, and even then they sometimes missed her when she left on her own (a fact that was continually vexing to both of them).

But Zidane had taught her to take care of herself, among other things. She was determined to maintain some of that independence, even if her station made it somewhat difficult.

What would he have thought of this Terran business, she wondered? Then again, if he'd been there, they'd likely have known something of it already. Even if he'd made a home with Garnet in Alexandria as Prince Consort, he'd have likely stayed in contact with Mikoto. That was just the type of man that he was, or had been. Unlike Garnet, who had never even thought to send Mikoto a letter telling her of Avon. She hadn't thought the genome would have cared given how little interest she'd seemed to have in Zidane. Yet now Garnet found herself feeling slightly guilty.

Did having Avon mean that she was "related" to Mikoto? She'd never considered the notion. When Zidane had failed to return, she'd taken Avon solely as her own—the only family she had. She hadn't considered Zidane's side of things. But without him there, she supposed that was excusable. Mikoto likely _wouldn't_ have cared to know of her "nephew," so it was a moot point besides.

Garnet wasn't sure she could face the genomes again anyway. They had all looked so much alike. She was certain that if she were to meet them again, all she'd see in their faces and expressions was Zidane. Avon looked a great deal like his father, though he'd inherited much of her coloring. And while she loved her son with everything that she was, it didn't make it any less painful when he said or did something that reminded her starkly of his father. Let alone an entire community that looked just like him.

Besides, she'd had to fight so hard for Avon, she wasn't sure she had it in her to care about Mikoto's relationship with him. She knew, logically, that Zidane not returning to her wasn't his fault, but that didn't change the complications that had come about as a result.

A queen with an illegitimate child was the type of scandal that would be talked about until and after her reign, and a mark Avon never would have been rid of. Thankfully, they'd managed to concoct a story to cover it all. Technically, she and Zidane had been married, be it by dwarves or not irrelevant, and so this fact had allowed them to announce Avon's coming without facing the caprice of judgmental opinions. But it had also meant revealing who Zidane was, thus they'd had to talk him up considerably. Having the support of the regent and other important people around the world concerning Zidane's character had helped. He'd become a hero if not in fact then in the minds of the populace, who had begun to await his return as Alexandria's prince consort as eagerly as they had Avon's birth. But as time passed, the tale had turned from hopeful to tragic, and Garnet was more often considered a widow than married.

Which only seemed to make her people all the fonder of Avon. It was to his credit that he was a good-humored, personable child. Extroverted, as his father had been, even if it did lead him sometimes into trouble. That he was an attractive child aided in his popularity as well, though such things be superficial. But in many ways a good majority of what it meant to be royal was superficial, and so Garnet considered anything that made Avon's existence easier a blessing.

Because, in the end, he was her son, and so she wanted all the best things in the world for him. She couldn't bring back his father, but she could try her best in every other respect.

Or so she'd decided some weeks after he'd been born. Initially, the whole thing had been… traumatic. The pregnancy had been difficult from the beginning. There'd been multiple scares in which she'd feared she'd lost the baby, which had only increased her stress levels and compounded the issues. She'd been forced into bedrest the last three months, and even so Avon had come three weeks earlier than he should have.

Things were not made easier once he'd been born either. He'd been weak in infancy and in constant need of medical attention. Dr. Tot and others had been in the castle day and night looking after him, doing the best they could for a child that was half something they knew nothing about and half something they knew very little of. That he'd inherited Zidane's tail and a summoner's horn had made this a constant reminder.

Garnet could still remember it plain as day: Lying in bed, barely able to keep her eyes open, while Dr. Tot and his nurses had done everything they could to stabilize Avon's condition. He'd been so pale, his skin so thin and pallid. His horn had been underdeveloped, and so it'd been soft to the touch—tender even—and his tail had been totally barren of hair, leaving it as a thin, bony appendage curling up between his too-thin legs.

The sight had left Garnet in near-constant tears, and even as he'd slowly grown stronger, she'd found it difficult to manage her own well-being. Dr. Tot had said that it was hard for mothers sometimes, that they didn't all take to their children right away. Which had been a constant source of misery to Garnet. She'd wanted to care for Avon, but his delicate condition had made it impossible from the start, leaving her in a constant state of uncertainty and anxiety, even when she'd been allowed to hold him in her arms. Oftentimes, she'd found herself bouncing between regret and desperation. Regret that she'd partaken in the act that had resulted in this situation and desperation for Zidane to be there. Because if he had, then certainly everything would be better.

It was a spiral she'd eventually come out of, just as Avon had slowly begun to grow as well. And in doing so, she'd managed to make up for the bonds she'd lacked in the beginning. Until Avon had become her whole world—the small world inside the larger one she was tasked with caring for.

It was a world Zidane was no longer a part of, and therefore neither was Mikoto. But, again, Garnet was quite certain Mikoto would feel the same. She hadn't struck Garnet as the type for sentimentality, and so likely would have cared very little about any offspring her brother might have gone on to produce.

"Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom!" Jolted yet again from her thoughts, Garnet smiled at the sight of Avon bolting into her room once again. He was soaking wet, water dribbling from his hair and tail, and wearing only a pair of braies. Steiner came jogging after him a moment later, the rest of his clothes draped over the knight's arm.

"You're quite underdressed to be running about the castle," Garnet observed as Avon came sprinting around her desk. Running into her knees, his small hands grabbed at her thighs as he grinned up at her.

With a huffing breath, Steiner came to a stop on the other side of her desk and slumped a bit within his armor.

"Beatrix said we're going to Lindblum!" Avon announced, clearly excited as he bounced up and down in place, using Garnet's knees as anchors every time his feet left the floor.

"I know," Garnet replied, meanwhile wiping a bead of water from her son's bare shoulder. "We're to attend the Festival of the Masks."

Beside her, Steiner scoffed, but said nothing of his disapproval.

"And that means I get to see Uncle Cid! And Aunt Hilda! And Aunt Eiko!"

"Yes, they'll be there."

"And Grandpa Baku!"

"Perhaps."

"And—"

"And you'll miss seeing Mr. 747 entirely if you don't get dressed," Garnet reminded before he could keep rambling.

"When are we going to Linblum?" He bypassed her warning entirely.

"In a few days I suppose."

He frowned. "Then what's the point of lessons at all? Since I won't have them in a few days anyway…"

"What nonsense is this?" Steiner asked. "Why wouldn't you have lessons?"

Avon turned to him in confusion. "Because we'll be gone…"

"You'll still have lessons, even in Lindblum," Garnet corrected.

"What?!" He turned back to her, appearing wholly devastated. "No!"

"Yes." She nodded firmly. "Which means you need to get dressed and get to the study."

" _Mom_!"

"Avon."

Dropping his hands to his sides, he hung his head and pouted for a few moments, before slowly turning and dragging his feet back around the desk. With his tail dragging out behind him, he made his way slowly toward the door, while Steiner—head shaking—followed him out. Again.

Behind her desk, Garnet released a light sigh, but smiled too.

**oOo**

"I don't like it. I don't like it one bit."

Blank released an exasperated huff. "Well I guess it's a good thing then that you're not the one going in, Cinna."

"That doesn't make me feel any better!" He insisted, continuing to pace back and forth across the deck of the airship. "In fact, it makes it all worse! We can't even see what's going on down there!"

"It's not like any of us would be able to do anything if we could," Marcus added, leaning back on his wooden bench as he did. As if he were going to try sleeping despite how the gusty wind was constantly shifting the ship from side to side.

Not that Blank blamed him for trying. It felt like they'd been up for days, stuck in a constant circle around the Iifa Tree. Or what remained of it, anyway. They'd occasionally nod off, leaving the watch to those still awake, but it wasn't so much that they didn't have the time to sleep as it was the fact that the weather made it difficult. The ship swayed almost violently from side to side in the current moment, and that was pretty tame compared to what they'd been dealing with a good chunk of the time. It seemed that—in the advent of the war—the Iifa tree had become unstable, but not at cataclysmically destructive as had been predicted. Or at least not yet.

Blank was a little shaky on the details, but from what he understood, Terra—the dying planet, not the kingdom—had begun the process of being assimilated by Gaia. Or it's crystal had. As a result, the Iifa tree was reacting, though not as violently as could be possible due to the genomes interference. Because the Terran crystal was weak, it couldn't stand up to Gaia's crystal, and so was slowly being consumed by it. Which the Iifa tree sensed as being a threat, and so it was reacting defensively toward Gaia itself. Which might not have been a big deal if it'd been so weak as to simply wither away, but because the Gaian and Terran crystals were now one (or becoming one, or one absorbing the other, or something), the Iifa tree was both fueled and set off by the Gaian _and_ Terran souls cycling through both crystals. Or in simpler terms, the Iifa tree knew it's crystal was dying and was siphoning off soul energy from Gaia in attempts to fight back.

Which was resulting in all sorts of violent reactions. One of which was upsetting the natural ecosystems around it with purposefully expelled mist, hence the unpredictable and dangerous weather.

The genomes, knowing that to leave the Iifa tree alone for too long would spell out disaster for the entire planet, had used Garland's soul technology to filter the worst of it away from the Mist continent and the civilizations living there. But the crystals were unbalanced—there were too many souls converging at once due to Terra's addition—and so all that Mist expulsion had to go somewhere. Thus the roots of the Iifa tree had been re-routed to the Forgotten Continent, where the genomes harvested the mist before it could become dangerous, so as to put it to better uses.

It wasn't a permanent solution—apparently—because eventually Terra's crystal would be absorbed completely and the balance of souls would even out due to the excess being expelled as mist, but until that time, they had to carefully deal with the mist so as to prevent planet-wide catastrophe.

Or… something.

There was a lot more to it than that, Blank knew, but that was the basic understanding he had of the problem. Which was all he and his crew needed, as they weren't out to deal with any of the more scientific parts of the debacle. No, they were there as support. Waiting while the newly refurbished filters inside Iifa were checked in on, because it was apparently too dangerous for them to actually help, what with them being humans and all and being potentially poisoned by the high levels of raw mist.

Genomes apparently didn't suffer such ailments, as they were kind of like filters themselves, able to absorb high levels of mist, or souls, without suffering much _physically_ in the way of consequences. Even so, though, it was perilous.

As it was, something in the balance was off, which implied a filter was off kilter, or so Blank had gathered. And while it would seem more logical to have some kind of genome… mist… engineer deal with the problem, the Iifa Tree was off-limits to everyone aside from two genomes in particular. Something about how they'd been made specially to confront the mist due to their original mission, and so could withstand the insanity that came along with hyper-mist absorption that all other genomes would find overwhelming. Which was a problem, seeing as the two genomes that could safely deal with the situation were also extremely important to the Terran community as a whole. All sorts of monsters and other horrors spawned around the Iifa Tree, making it particularly dangerous.

But someone had to deal with the problem.

"This was still a horrible, horrible idea," Cinna went on. "Mikoto is going to kill us when she finds out, you know that? You know how protective she can be…"

"Which is exactly why she wasn't told," Blank pointed out. "It'd be stupid for them both to go—risking both their hides would be pointless."

"It's been three days, Blank!" Cinna exclaimed. "Something probably happened! And Mikoto is the only one that can go down there! But she doesn't even know we're here!"

Blank sighed, while Marcus rearranged himself as though he were trying to get more comfortable.

They really should have taken one of the Terran ships—at least the decks on those were enclosed. Their mismatched Terran/Gaian/Theater ship hybrid was fun and interesting, but didn't protect them all that well from the weather when they needed to be keeping watch.

Then again, if they'd taken one of the Terran ships, someone would have noticed it missing, so perhaps it was all for the best. Though it seemed silly to Blank that the king of Terra had to ask for permission to use one of his own fleet's ships.

Probably Mikoto's doing.

"What if he doesn't come back?!" Cinna dragged on, cupping his face in his hands as he did. "What if he dies down there and we never told him the truth?! What if he dies down there never knowing _anything_?!"

Now Blank really was getting irritated. "Then he'll never know the difference."

"We should have told him! Oh god, he's probably dead and we didn't tell him and now I'll never be able to live with myself. I never should have listened to you guys. I should have told him five years ago!"

"Cinna!" Blank snapped harshly, "shut up!"

"We have to tell him when he gets back! I can't keep this secret anymore!"

"Goddammit, Cinna!"

"Would you both just calm down?" Marcus interjected, yawning as he did. "He's not dead and we're not telling him anything. The only reason you're feeling so guilty is because you're panicking."

"No, my panic is making my guilt worse!" Cinna rebuked. "I always feel guilty!"

"Yeah, well, we all do, but it's for the best so just…" Blank scowled, "shut up about it."

"How do you know it's for the best?! You don't know that!"

"Cinna, calm down," Marcus said again. "Look, if he's alive, it doesn't change anything, and if he'd dead, it doesn't make a difference. What good would telling him do anyway? He's got enough responsibilities as it is—you'd only make things worse for him."

"He deserves to know…"

"Yeah, and I deserve a damn vacation for putting up with you two." Finally, Marcus sat up. "But me going on vacation would make this situation worse, yeah? Just like adding more to a plate that's already overflowing would just make the whole thing that much more devastating. Ignorance is bliss."

Huffing, Cinna finally gave up pacing and plopped himself down on the wooden floor. "I don't know how you two sleep at night…"

"We sleep because we know it's for the best," Blank replied shortly. "It's not like he can abandon his position, so all knowing would do is torture him worse than he already is. Which is why you'd better keep your mouth shut about it when he gets back."

"Y'all arguin' again?" Pushing her way out through the bridge door, Ruby planted her feet firmly despite the wind and cocked her hip exaggeratedly to the side. "I swear y'all just keep rehashin' the same thing over an' over again. Aint doin' no one any good, regrettin' the way you do." She said it as though she were talking to all of them, because she knew full well that, no matter what they said, they all felt equally horrible about the things they weren't saying out loud.

"It's long too late to come clean now without makin' everythin' worse, so you'd all better quit frettin' over it an' accept that. Aint nothin' no one can do now but wait till he finds out on his own an' suffer the consequences."

" _When_ he finds out?" Cinna asked meekly. "Like, inevitably?"

Ruby looked at him like he was stupid. "He's gonna find out eventually, sugar. These things have a way of comin' to light."

"Then why can't we just tell him now?" Cinna whined.

"It wouldn't do any good!" Blank said harshly. "He'll hate us either way, so might as well keep it a secret as long as possible. Save him the pain."

Cinna stared sadly down at the floor. "It's not right…"

"Nothing about how things ended up is right, but here we are." Marcus took a deep breath. "We just have to live with it the best we can, like he does."

They were all quiet for some moments, listening as the wind whipped around beneath them. A little lower and they'd probably be swept right off the deck.

"I wonder what everyone's doing back home," Cinna eventually murmured.

"It doesn't matter," Blank said. "So don't bother talking about it."

Words that quite well settled the matter, Cinna seeming to finally give up his griping in favor of laying back in defeat. Blank, meanwhile, stared harshly out over the deck of the ship, only softening his posture some when Ruby came up and began to gently massage his shoulders.

"He'll be back soon," she murmured. "These things always take time."

Which Blank knew. But it was still nerve-wracking, even if he had better control over himself than Cinna.

"I just don't get what could be wrong with this filter thing," he said quietly. "It's been working just fine the last five years, so what happened that we have to keep coming back here?" It was their third trip out there in less than six months, all of which had taken place without Mikoto's knowledge. If she'd known what they were doing, she would have fought every step of the way. Which was something they apparently didn't have the time to deal with. Not if they wanted to keep the rest of Gaia safe.

"All things wear out in time, love," Ruby said quietly. "Crystals, people, secrets. We gotta keep up on the maintenance, stretch them out as far as we can if we gotta, but nothin' lasts forever."

"What does he even do down there?" Blank went on. "How does he even know what to do?"

It was question none of them could really answer. Something about Terran souls and memories, and being able to communicate with Garland. Things Blank would likely never be able to wrap his head around.

"He aint no different than us. Just doin' what he can for however long he can. When there aint no solutions, you gotta make up your own. That's what he's always sayin.'"

It was a dangerous way to live, in Blank's opinion. But there wasn't much choice in the matter otherwise. Either they accomplished what they came to accomplish or the rest of the planet paid the price.

But more often than not, Blank found himself wondering just how long this whole thing could go on for. Try as they might, he feared it wouldn't be enough in the end.

"He's back," Marcus announced, looking over the edge of the ship as he did.

Heading over, Blank pretended that he wasn't as relieved as he was, while Ruby grabbed his hand and held it a little too tightly.

Sitting up, Cinna grinned before vaulting to his feet and joining Marcus in looking over the edge, a muttered "Finally!" leaving his lips.

Together, they waited, while their ship continued to sway uncertainly back and forth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I thought writing a Final Fantasy VIII fic was going to be rough, but literally NO ONE is going to be reading this fic, lol. Well, anyway, I'm enjoying writing it--I'm already four chapters deep and working on the fifth. This has always been one of my all time fav games, so I'm glad to finally be putting this fic out in the world--I've been working on it on and off for literal years. 
> 
> Anyway, obviously, there is plenty of drama to be had with this fic. So please, for the love of all that is good, leave reviews. Because if YOU don't, then, well... probably no one will, lol. 
> 
> (Also, isn't Avon the adorable-ist?)


	2. Chapter 2

"Are we there yet?" Avon asked. He was standing in the seat beside Garnet, his hands stamped against the window as he stared out at the landscape shifting by below. He was bouncing lightly up and down, his tail curled and twitching back and forth.

"Almost," Garnet assured, looking only quickly up at him before returning her attention to the documents in her lap. Or so she tried to do. A few seconds later, she was interrupted when her son smoothly stepped over and into her arms, settling down in her lap before looking somewhat sheepishly up at her.

Supposing she had worked enough, she set her documents aside and linked her arms securely around him.

"Are we _really_ almost there?" he asked. "You keep saying that every time I ask."

"That's because you keep asking every five minutes," Garnet replied.

"I'm just really bored," he whined, pouting some as he dropped his head against her chest. Chuckling to herself, Garnet held him a little tighter and watched as his eyes darted around the airship.

They were hardly alone despite her preference for smaller travelling parties. Steiner and Beatrix stood up by the front windows of the airship's cabin, while only a few soldiers were stationed around at various points. Dr. Tot and Mr. 747 were also present, the former asleep in the seat across the aisle from Garnet, while the latter stood alone at a window and seemed quite content to stare for the entire duration of their trip. A few nobles had also decided to come along, despite Garnet doing all she could to dissuade them. But when it became apparent that Garnet was going for "trade reasons" outside of the Festival of the Masks, the nobles with their elbows deepest in Alexandria's trade interests had decided it was their duty to come along.

Which was alright in the end, as the additional bodies had given Avon plenty of people to chat with during the long trip. And long it was, as Alexandria was still quite behind as far as airship speeds and technology. It'd taken them nearly three days to get from Alexandria to Lindblum, which was a short trip as far as Garnet's travelling experience was concerned, but quite torturous for Avon. He could only ask everyone aboard so many questions before he ran out of ideas, though he was a very creative young man. And while Dr. Tot and Mr. 747 had kept up on his lessons for the duration of the trip, it hadn't been quite enough to preoccupy him.

Thankfully, they really were quite close to Lindblum, Garnet figuring that they would be able to see the castle walls within the hour. Outside, the sun was setting, but the great city—even surrounded by the castle walls—would no doubt be lit and visible even as darkness fell. The sight would be quite the treat for Avon, who hadn't been to Lindblum in over two years. Cid, Hilda, and Eiko had visited Alexandria multiple times within that period, but only because it was more "convenient." Or so Uncle Cid claimed, though their visits were typically just an excuse for him to stretch the legs of whatever airship model he'd recently come up with.

Alexandria was still running on Hilda Garde models 4 and 5, which were quite outdated and "slow" in comparison to Cid's most recent Hilda Garde 12. Much of Lindblum's trade was run on models 8 and 9, as those were the ones Cid had created in bulk following 4 and 5's mass line, but as Alexandria was always a bit slower to progress, it had been voted by the court that none of the kingdom's coffers would be spared to upgrade ships everyone felt worked "just fine." Garnet could have overruled this, but as her kingdom was yet recovering from the war, she had decided that perhaps the court had a point. She didn't mind the three-day trip, even if Cid could make it in two.

"Mom?" Avon's small voice drew her attention back his way.

"Yes?" she asked, when he didn't immediately continue.

Snuggling some against her chest, his tail wrapped around her arm. "Tell me about my Dad."

Though he couldn't see, Garnet frowned. Not because she disapproved of Avon's question, but because the subject of Zidane never failed to hit her like a smack to the face, no matter who was asking.

Truth be told, she didn't like talking about Zidane. When she'd first found out she was pregnant—shortly after the end of the war—the subject of Zidane had been all anyone had talked about. If only to formulate for him a suitable reputation among the court and her people. Back then, she'd still held onto the hope that Zidane would return. But as the long, hard months had worn on, that hope had gradually fallen to pieces. The subject of Zidane had become something to be whispered of, a sorrow that many who had lost loved ones to the war could understand.

Garnet had never really picked up the pieces of that loss. Losing her mother had been hard enough. Then her entire kingdom. Only for the sturdiest pillar of strength in her life to leave as well. The first few years after they'd returned to Alexandria had been some of the hardest in her life. She'd faced the grief of losing her mother, dealt with the consequences of war, and started to rebuild all that her people had lost—all of that on top of a difficult pregnancy.

But there were no answers or solutions when it came to Zidane. She'd made him promise to come back and he just… hadn't. She didn't know what had happened to him, under what circumstances he'd died—like so many others as a result of Kuja and his manipulations.

Even thinking about it had her chest tightening with heartache, no closure to be found. She didn't even have anything with which to remember him by. Just Avon and her memories, which weren't always enough to keep her questions and desperation at bay.

She knew he'd have come back to her if he could, which could only mean one thing—that he was gone. But the how and the thought of whatever pain he'd endured tortured her when she was at her worst. She tried not to think about him most of the time, despite his presence always hanging in the back of her thoughts.

Yet, no matter how painful, she couldn't refuse to speak of him when Avon asked. Her son deserved to know. Much of the time, stories of his father came from Steiner, not her, surprising as that may be. But as Steiner had once admitted, he'd grown up without a father as well and knew the kind of anguish that could cause. He thought it only right that Avon know of his own father, who had turned out to be a better man than Steiner had originally given him credit for ("though that doesn't change the fact that he was a complete scoundrel."). Garnet suspected that Steiner and Avon talked of Zidane far more often than she did. But still, her son would occasionally come to her with questions—almost as though he too were searching for something, even if he didn't know what.

Garnet hummed thoughtfully. "What do you want to know about him?"

"What was he like?"

A question Avon had asked numerous times before.

"He was…" And no matter how many times she'd answered, Garnet always struggled. "He was very brave, and considerate, and thoughtful when he wasn't being a total flirt."

Avon turned to look up at her. "What's a flirt?"

"Someone who thinks they can get whatever they want if they try hard enough," she said, even if her words weren't entirely true.

"Like me!" Avon said quickly.

Garnet laughed. "Given how much like your father you are, I imagine you will be." A comment that visibly pleased him.

"Hey, Mom?" Avon asked again.

"Yes?"

He seemed to hesitate, his smile fading, but, ultimately, asked what it was that had popped into his head. "Do you miss him?"

"Miss him?" Garnet echoed.

"Yeah. Like I miss you when you're away…"

Garnet took a shaky breath. "Yes, I miss him," she admitted quietly. "Every day."

Frowning, Avon tucked his head back into her chest. "I miss him too," he whispered.

Holding him even tighter, Garnet placed her nose against the top of his head and tried to ignore the way her heart threatened to crack inside her chest.

She hated how fragile she was when it came to Zidane—hardly able to talk about him. Yet she didn't know what to do to fix it either. Somehow, she felt Zidane would know just what to say to ease her sorrow. Which only made her all the more desperate to have him there.

A continuous circle that she couldn't escape.

"We've almost arrived," Steiner said a second later, interrupting her reveries as he approached. Beatrix made her way over as well, not so gently waking Dr. Tot before she came to stand at Steiner's side.

"Really?!" Avon asked, immediately perking up. Within the moment, he was struggling out of Garnet's arms. Bouncing to the ground, his tail whipped back and forth in excitement as he dashed around Steiner and Beatrix toward the front of the cabin.

Ever vigilant, Steiner marched right after him, while Garnet and Beatrix remained behind to watch.

"I already miss Alexandria," Beatrix said a moment later, sounding quite put off.

Garnet offered her a sympathetic smile. "We haven't even arrived yet."

"Don't remind me." She sighed. "I don't mind travelling itself, but I do tire of Lindblum's court."

Which Garnet could understand. While Alexandria's court was just as suffocating as Lindblum's, many of those involved stayed in Treno when they weren't at the castle. The distance made it easier to manage their varying "attitudes." But in Lindblum, everyone was all in one place. Not only that, but they had far more pressing opinions a good chunk of the time, unlike the Alexandrian courtiers who preferred to mind their own business so long as their status wasn't threatened. Oftentimes, those in Lindblum had too many thoughts on what Alexandria should be doing, which really only inspired Garnet's own court to dig their heels in deeper.

Beatrix, meanwhile, had very little patience for any of it.

"Given why we're really here," Garnet murmured, "I doubt there will be much time for the regular sort of bickering."

"One can only hope."

"Look! Look at that!" Avon shouted from the front of the cabin, his loud voice silencing most on board as they all turned to look his way (he was the prince, after all).

"We must be approaching the gates," Beatrix said.

"No, it's something else," Steiner said quickly, having overheard her comment. He turned to them a moment later, appearing pale and serious as he beckoned them up to the windows.

Knowing better than to question, Garnet quickly stood as both she and Beatrix made their way up to the front of the cabin. A few of the nobles cast curious glances out the window as well, all of them watching as the vague outline of an airship began to appear out of the shadowed clouds.

"My, that is quite an airship," one of the lords exclaimed, even as Garnet felt her gut churn with shock and anxiety.

"It's the Invincible," Steiner muttered in awe.

The ship was still somewhat shielded by the clouds, but even at their distance, Garnet would have recognized it anywhere. It appeared to be coming out of the northwest, around to Lindblum's main gate.

The sight of it was unnerving, as it always had been. At least for Garnet. But any sort of unease aside, what was even more astonishing was that there was no feasible way it could actually be flying in beside them. They—as in, Garnet and her friends—had left the Invincible inside Memoria at the end of the war. Memoria, which had exploded afterward. True, she and her comrades had been transported out afterward, but she hadn't seen the ship anywhere when Cid had lifted them away from danger.

But perhaps it'd been saved? If so, then had someone else salvaged it?

"Wait, no…" Steiner leaned in as close to the window as he could get.

Squinting, Garnet did her best to see past the clouds. "That's not the Invincible," she agreed after a moment, both relieved and even more curious. The ship's design was strikingly similar to the Invincible, but the colors weren't the same. Where the hull had once been purple-blue in color, it was now more of a bluish-green, and what had previously been gold detailing was now silver. Color aside, it also appeared to be lacking the bulk at the bottom that had been the great eye that had done so much damage.

But it was quite clearly still a Terran ship.

"What's it doing here?" Beatrix asked.

Garnet leaned back some from the window. "I don't know…"

The two ships were approaching the main Lindblum gate at about the same pace, the Terran ship drifting closer and closer all the while. Garnet watched it the whole time, as did Steiner and Beatrix. A few of the nobles did as well, but eventually lost interest. As did Avon, who was soon preoccupied with the city that was spreading out before them.

After some minutes, the Terran ship began to sink down beneath their own, headed for the main gate in the wall surrounding the city. A checkpoint that Garnet had clearance to bypass before heading straight for the castle's docking bay. She watched the Terran ship for as long as she could, but once they were beyond the wall, it was no longer visible.

"We'll have to ask the regent," Steiner decided. "He must know of any airship models that would have such a striking resemblance to the Invincible."

"Perhaps he developed it?" Beatrix said.

Garnet wasn't sure, the entire situation making her incredibly uneasy.

"Mom, we're here!" Avon announced, taking her hand as their own ship drifted closer to the bay door, which was in the midst of shifting open.

Smiling down at her son, Garnet squeezed his hand and tried to push back on her anxieties.

"We've received clearance to land in Lindblum Castle's Royal Docking Bay," their pilot soon announced, his voice somewhat crackly coming through the "outdated" horns attached to the ceiling of the cabin. "We'll be landing shortly." In other words, they needed to prepare to de-board.

The announcement had the nobles bustling about, everyone chatting excitedly at finally having arrived. Servants were gathering luggage, while the soldiers assembled near the exits and started to get into formation. Steiner and Beatrix took it upon themselves to carry what little Garnet had deemed necessary for both she and Avon, the four of them waiting behind everyone else as they flew in through the circular bay. For a moment, shadows darkened the entire cabin, until they emerged into the large room a few moments later.

Having been sleeping under one of the seats, Pickle—Avon's moogle companion—suddenly burst out into the open, startling quite a few on board. Circling in confusion for a moment, he eventually spotted the royal family and rushed closer. Pickle was never one to appreciate travel or change of any sort, and so was seemingly quite happy to dive into the bag Steiner held open for him. No doubt, he would remain hidden there for some time.

Turning her attention to the window, Garnet watched as they slowly lowered, until the ship was sitting at the bridge. A few more minutes passed while everything was put into place, all safety measures taken. Avon swung her hand in his own the whole time, quiet as he watched everything through the window. Dr. Tot had come back to stand with them as well, his whispered explanations of everything necessary in order to land enough to keep Avon interested.

Garnet, meanwhile, barely heard anything he said. She was still far too preoccupied with the strange airship.

The nobles all exited first, not seeming to have noticed anything amiss as they waltzed down the bridge to be greeted by the awaiting crowd: a large group of Lindblum's own nobles, an array of Lindblum's guard, and the regent with his family. None approached the regent directly, as he, Hilda, and Eiko were standing off to the side in a manner that clearly expressed a desire for distance. But they did wave and nod accordingly. It was Garnet and her party that the regent was there for, the three waiting until all the nobles had been cleared from the bridge before they began their approach.

Garnet and her crew were already making their way down the bridge by that point, six Alexandrian soldiers out ahead of them, then Dr. Tot and Mr. 747, before finally Garnet and Avon between Steiner and Beatrix.

Cid and Hilda appeared much as they always did, only as worn as the years would age them. Eiko, meanwhile, was really beginning to grow into her position as princess. At almost thirteen, she'd grown out her purple hair just past her shoulders, her bangs cut sharply across her forehead. She had the thin figure of a girl just beginning to mature, something gangly and out of proportion about how she stood, despite how she tried to appear dignified in her yellow gown. Yet, even as she'd matured, she'd never lost her fire or demanding attitude. While it would likely make her a difficult teenager, Garnet was certain such qualities would serve her when she inevitably took her father's place.

"Queen Garnet," Cid greeted as they finally met, both of them bowing before Cid came forward and clasped Garnet's free hand between both his own. "My dear 'niece,'" he said with far more fondness, a smile stretching beneath his mustache. "How pleased I am to see you."

Garnet spared him a small smile. "As am I, Uncle."

"Hi, Uncle Cid!" Avon said loudly, perhaps displeased with how little attention he was getting.

"Why hello, young prince!" Cid turned to him, bending down to be more on his level. "Why, you've grown so much since we last saw you! A very impressive feat!"

Avon put on a cheesy grin. "I'm gonna be taller than you!" he decided.

Cid appeared doubtful. "Well, we'll see. Your father wasn't exactly a paragon of height."

"What's a paragon?"

"Nothing you need worry about, little one," Hilda cut in, offering her own smile as she bent down and touched her finger to the tip of Avon's nose, which had him scrunching it rebelliously.

"Hello, Queen Garnet." Stepping forward, Eiko made a very serious show of curtsying—a proper greeting—which Garnet made sure to return with a light bow of her head. Eiko held on to the serious attitude a moment longer, before eventually giving into a smile.

"Hello, Eiko!" Avon said, bounding forward and landing directly in front of his "aunt." Which pulled a somewhat skeptical look onto Eiko's face. He then crouched down and held his hands up like claws, growling as his tail whipped back and forth. Once upon a time, this might have gotten a rise out of Eiko, but as of then, she scoffed at him and turned up her nose.

After a few more seconds, Avon desisted growling, straightened, and crossed his arms critically over his chest.

"Why are you being boring?" he asked.

Eiko glared down at him. "I'm too old to be playing monkey games with you."

Avon did not appear impressed. "I miss when you used to be fun."

"Young Sir," Steiner scolded quietly.

"Ah, they're alright." Cid waved the exchange off nonchalantly. "They'll sort themselves out, as children always do."

A comment which had Eiko's whole expression dropping as she gaped. "Father, I'm not—"

"As it is, I'm quite relieved you're finally here," Cid went on, apparently not having heard Eiko's objections, which resulted in the young girl dropping her shoulders in a sulk. "I've been itching to speak to you about the letter I sent previously. That, and I have some discoveries I'd like to share with you that could prove very beneficial to both our kingdoms."

"Uncle, a question, if I may," Garnet interjected. "On our way in, we saw a ship that looked strikingly like the Invincible. Have you been developing such a ship?"

Her question had Cid frowning. "Certainly not. While the Invincible is the goal I wish to attain as far as airship technology, we are not even close to a prototype. Although, some of the technological blueprints that were sent along with the letter from—"

"Sire!" Their discussion was interrupted as a soldier came sprinting into the bay from the stairs that led down and around to the air cab station. He was clad in the typical pointed hat and matching tabard that all Lindblum guards wore, his face red and out of breath as he approached. "Important information from the front gate," he said, panting as he handed Cid a folded letter. "Arriving guests. Unexpected."

Clearly perplexed, Cid quickly used his fingernail to break the seal on the letter, while the guard sent to deliver the message did all he could to catch his breath.

Not the least bit interested in anything going on above his head, Avon had returned to his stalking posture and was once again attempting to prey on Eiko. She tried to shoo him away, but he was too quick, able to dart around her before she could get a proper handle on where he was coming from. Which ultimately resulted in the young woman huffing and stomping her foot, while Avon stuck out his tongue and yanked on the skirt of her dress.

"I may yet have the answer to your question," Cid announced, once he'd finished reading the letter. Turning to Garnet, he held up the small piece of parchment before continuing. "At the same time I sent my invitation to you to come for the festival, I sent a return letter to this supposed Kingdom of Terra—using the rather large delivery bird they'd sent here initially—inviting them to come for introductions and potential trade negotiations. Of course, I expected a back and forth between us, solidifying dates, but apparently these Terrans had a different idea."

"That ship…" Beatrix murmured.

"I suppose my invitation of 'earliest convenience' was taken quite literally. They've only just arrived."

"Do they have clearance to dock in the royal bay, Sir?" the guard who had rushed in asked, having finally caught his breath.

"Hm? Yes, I suppose," Cid replied. "Might as well see them now, since a sufficient welcoming party is already here. Have them wait until the Hilda Garde Rose has left the bay," Garnet's ship, "and then give them clearance to enter."

The guard saluted before turning and sprinting back off the way he'd come. Having already been unloaded of all people and luggage, Garnet's own ship was, indeed, preparing to leave the docking bay in order to be parked with the rest of Lindblum's fleet. But it would be some minutes yet before it was able to lift off, which was ultimately very little time to prepare for unforeseen guests.

"How many are expected?" Hilda asked quickly.

"It says here in this notice that they've come with quite a large party. Twenty of their royal guard, ten of their court, their 'High Commander,' and this Chancellor Mikoto herself."

Snapping her fingers, Hilda quickly called to one of the guards standing nearby, whom she commanded to relay to the castle staff that enough rooms were to be made ready for the abrupt influx of guests, both in the formal living quarters and in the military barracks, respectively.

"If they're playing at having a formal military with such small numbers, then nearly all their people must be soldiers," Cid said a second later. "Only a couple hundred of them were evacuated, you said?"

Garnet hummed. "From Bran Bal when we were there, yes."

"I will say, the blueprints they sent for technological trade goods were quite impressive. But even if they are more technologically advanced than we are, I can't say that such could possibly make up for what they have to be lacking in populace and manpower."

"Genomes did have a habit of creating more genomes," Garnet added.

Yet Cid didn't appear any more convinced. Rather, Garnet could practically sense his skepticism. If these Terrans were "taking him for a ride," as some might say, he would not much appreciate it.

Before them, the Hilda Garde Rose was finally beginning to lift off, the bay door on the opposite side to the entrance sliding open, which would lead the ship into Cid's airship hanger.

"Mr. 747," Beatrix said suddenly, turning to the black mage. He appeared somewhat startled at being addressed. "What do you know of the genome refugees that took to living in the Black Mage Village?"

He seemed to shuffle a bit in place before answering. "They didn't stay long," he explained. "I don't know what happened, as I'm not involved in the politics of such things, but it seemed like they were with us one day and then gone the next."

"Gone? Where did they go?"

"I didn't think to ask. They were with us such a short time…"

An answer that did little to please Beatrix.

"None of my correspondence with any black mages has ever made mention of the genomes," Garnet said. She'd never thought to ask, really, having been dealing with so many of her own problems during the first few years after the war. She'd just assumed the black mages were looking after them.

"Those who do dealings with the Terrans are oftentimes away from the village," Mr. 747 added. "I know we trade in goods with them, but only a few in the village are permitted to be involved in such things. Most of us know nothing about them."

"And those of you not involved are okay with knowing so little about such things?" Beatrix asked.

A question that caused Mr. 747 to thoughtfully pause before he answered. "Why wouldn't we be? All trade between ourselves and the Terrans has been adequately fair, and as we too like to remain isolated as a people, I don't think it out of the ordinary that we should respect others who also want the same. Especially when we have so much in common."

"Then the genomes are very private people?" Garnet asked.

Mr. 747 nodded, his large hat nearly sliding off his head. "They are very, hm, wary I think is the right word. The Terrans are very hesitant to be involved with other races."

"Why is that?" Cid asked.

To Mr. 747, the answer came quite quickly, as if it should be obvious. "They have no desire to be taken advantage of."

It was a statement that brought them all back years, to the time of the war and all the manipulations that had gone along with it. To the plight of the black mages themselves, which Garnet supposed would echo with the genomes as well, given the similarities between them.

"If that is the case, I wonder what has inspired them to reach out to us," Cid said after a moment, the entire group returning their attention to the bay as the Hilda Garde Rose vanished through the gate on the far left, while the one on the far right slowly began to reopen.

"Mom?" Avon came up and wrapped his arms around Garnet's legs, blue eyes staring up at her. "What's going on?"

Placing her hand on the top of his head, she smiled reassuringly down at him before returning her attention to the incoming ship. The bay door was fully open, very little light falling in through the gate as the sun must have fully set outside. Which only seemed to ignite the bright colors of the Terran ship as it finally began to glide through. The silver detailing glittered in the vague light of the bay, the sharp point at the front cutting through like a needle. The bulbous window that followed behind was rounded and smoothed to perfection, while the intricate grace of the lines that shaped the rear eventually tapered to a high tail, teal fins protruding from the top, sides, and back.

Now that it was up close, Garnet was even more relieved that her initial evaluation had been correct. The great eye—the horrible weapon of mass destruction—was absent. This ship was very much like the Invincible, yet also a far stretch from being the real thing.

It was quieter than any of the airship models Cid had developed, and settled into place at the bridge with far more refinement. With bated breath, those waiting watched, silent and anxious, but more so curious than anything else. The minutes passed slowly, until a metal door was finally slid open along the hull, perfectly aligned with the bridge.

A single genome was visible just inside the door. But as they were swathed in some kind of dark blue uniform and hat, little could be seen of them. They merely extended a ramp from the ship to the bridge, before vanishing back inside.

Those that followed, however, were far more imposing. A line of soldiers exited the ship first, all of them clad in thick plate armor that reminded Garnet strikingly of Garland. It was black with high, reinforced collars. None of them possessed the glowing red sphere in the center of their chests, but the likeness was clear nonetheless.

The genomes themselves were a bit unexpected as well. Garnet had anticipated a parade of delicate, golden-haired duplicates of Zidane, but these were far from that reality. While all their hair was pastel in tone, the colors varied enough to span the entirety of the rainbow. Baby blue, mint, pink, pale yellow, lilac, and everything in-between. Their tails were much the same, matching their hair as they swung back and forth behind them.

"Mom!" Avon hissed suddenly, yanking on her sleeve. "They have tails! Like me!"

Offering no response, Garnet reached down and pulled Avon into her arms, cradling him close as she continued to watch.

Their skin tones varied as well, graduating from so fair they were almost white to skin dark enough it nearly matched the armor they wore. And as the two lines of soldiers marched forward—each ten deep—Garnet became abruptly aware of their height. None of these genomes were anything like the ones they'd rescued from Bran Bal, who had been more akin to children. All of the soldiers were above the average height for humanoid-type persons, most at least a head taller than Garnet herself. And sprouting from their heads were feathers, which matched their hair. The feathers of varying lengths grew out of several spots—some from the front of the heads, some along the parts in their hair, others around their ears.

Garnet found that the genomes reminded her far less of Zidane and far more of Kuja, a thought that left her stomach churning with unease.

It was difficult to tell if they were male or female, none of them possessing facial hair and all of them looking like they could be either/or, depending on how they dressed.

All of them were armed with swords, which were sheathed on their hips.

As the soldiers hit the end of the bridge, they spread out to either side, lining up along the shallow stairs and in front of the golden gate that welcomed them into the castle. Which revealed the group that followed:

These genomes varied more in their dress, which appeared to Garnet to be an amalgamation of the Terran style she'd seen in Bran Bal and what one might find in one of their own cities. Most of those who approached were, at the very least, donning skin-tight black suits underneath whatever else they were wearing, which varied from long coats to skirts to belted robes to slacks beneath an array of different types of blouses. Some sported arbitrary pieces of armor on varying body parts, a few even wearing hats in the same style as black mages.

At the center of the group—and seemingly leading the charge—was Mikoto, though she hardly resembled the Mikoto Garnet had met so many years before. She too was taller, looking less like the young girl that had lured them through Terra and much more like a woman of Garnet's own age. She wore long, metal-plated boots up to her knees, the tight, black suit going up from there. A short, pink skirt wrapped around her upper thighs and hips, while a longer, second skirt fanned out behind her—not unlike the skirt Kuja himself had once worn, albeit with details in pink.

Her upper body was far more modest than Kuja's ever had been, however, her fitted blouse not wholly unlike the one she'd worn years before, though it possessed more detail and long, flared sleeves.

Two small feathers protruded from the front of her hairline, her cold, green eyes watching them all critically.

Without anything in the way of hesitation or shyness, she stepped down the stairs toward the group awaiting them, which inspired Cid to take a quick step forward. As she was in foreign territory, Garnet remained behind to simply watch the exchange.

"Regent Cid Fabool," Mikoto said, sounding quite serious. Her expression was blank and unreadable, revealing nothing, and her posture was stiff at best. Given her personality the first time they'd met, Garnet wasn't entirely surprised.

She did note, however, that the other genomes didn't necessarily mirror her attitude. While they were clearly composed, many looked around the bay with curiosity, some with suspicion, and even a few with what looked like excitement.

"Chancellor Mikoto, yes?" Cid asked, bowing his head as well. "It's an unexpected pleasure, having you here so soon."

"You specified in your letter that you'd be happy to receive us at your earliest convenience."

Cid released a light chuckle. "That I did. I hope the trip was pleasant for you?" Wherever it was they'd come from.

"It was adequate."

"I suppose you can't really ask for anything more." Smiling, Cid turned and gestured to those waiting behind him. "I'm not entirely sure of your familiarity with everyone here, but this is my wife, Lady Hilda, and my daughter, Lady Eiko."

Mikoto cocked a single eyebrow. "You adopted the summoner girl."

"Ah, yes."

"How very prudent of you."

"I beg your pardon?"

"One of the last remaining summoners on Gaia, able to wield formidable power."

This was a statement that clearly offended Cid and Hilda a great deal.

"I'm sorry, but what exactly are you implying?"

"She means to imply nothing, only to state fact." It was another genome that cut in, one standing right beside Mikoto. She bowed her head shortly after. "High Commander Akitis," she said by way of introducing herself. She was a few inches taller than Mikoto, with tanned skin and pale blue hair tied up in a high ponytail. She was wearing more armor pieces than most, but less than the soldiers. And unlike them, she had a duel-bladed sword strapped to her back.

"A pleasure to meet you," Cid replied, though his tone was somewhat darker than it had been previously.

"I'm sorry if I offended you," Mikoto said a second later. "That was not my intent."

"While the chancellor is very good at her job, she forgets that we are all quite accustomed to her blunt statements of truth, whereas others may not be," the commander added lastly.

Cid took a deep breath. "There was no offense taken," he assured—lied—and offered up a tight smile. "Might I also introduce Queen Garnet Til Alexandros of Alexandria."

Taking that as her cue, Garnet finally stepped forward, bowing her head lightly even as she held Avon in her arms.

"And me!" Avon shouted, even as Cid was turning his attention to the young prince.

"And her son," he said, smiling more fully as he did, "Prince Avon."

"We have, of course, met before," Garnet added, which earned her a bow of affirmation from Mikoto.

Upon Avon drawing attention to himself, a few of the genomes behind Mikoto took to murmuring back and forth to each other, clearly focused on the young prince. While the commander appeared suddenly surprised as she looked him up and down.

"Excuse any impudence on my part," Akitis said a moment later, "but your son, he's part Terran?"

As if to accent her suspicions, Avon's tail twitched lightly back and forth. It was a motion that finally seemed to draw Mikoto's focus as well, her own expression breaking to reveal alarm at the realization.

"Ah, yes, he is," Garnet affirmed, the attention Avon was gathering causing him to duck his head shyly against her shoulder. But he smiled too, looking all the more like his father as he did.

"Interesting…" Akitis said, her voice somewhat breathy.

"Indeed," Mikoto agreed shortly, her lips pursing as she looked Avon critically up and down one last time, before putting her attention back on Cid. "I wasn't expecting that we'd encounter any other sovereigns during our stay. I hope we're not intruding."

"Oh certainly not," Hilda guaranteed.

"Queen Garnet is merely here for the Festival of the Masks," Cid explained.

"Is that a Gaian holiday?" Akitis asked.

"It is… a Lindblum holiday," Cid corrected. "I'd be happy to tell you all about it, if you're interested."

Mikoto appeared only momentarily thoughtful. "No," she decided. "I don't think that will be necessary."

Beside her, Commander Akitis released a very quiet sigh and rolled her eyes up toward the ceiling, while one of the genomes behind her visibly smacked their hand against their forehead.

Even further back, one of their soldiers was doing their best not to laugh.

"That… is perfectly fine, I suppose," Cid replied awkwardly, the visible pain some of the other genomes were going through as a result of Mikoto's "manners" seeming to lighten what might have otherwise been a very disastrous meeting. "Well, why don't we head inside the castle? I'd be quite interested in having some of my curiosities satisfied."

Apparently thinking that appropriate, Mikoto nodded and walked on ahead at Cid's bidding, taking up a position at his side as they headed onward. Hilda and Eiko fell in behind them, Garnet then moving on as well with Steiner and Beatrix at her sides. Behind them, Akitis waved vaguely to the soldiers, who seemed to understand they were to do as the Lindblum guard decreed.

The other genomes followed behind Akitis, though she didn't stay with them for very long.

"Excuse me," she said, coming up behind Garnet as she did. Glancing only quickly back at her, Beatrix soon moved aside so Akitis could step in line beside Garnet. "I don't mean to intrude, but as this is as much an expedition relating to trade as it is for us to learn about the kingdoms of the Mist Continent, I hope you wouldn't mind having a chat with me as we walk."

"Certainly," Garnet agreed. "Though it doesn't sound as though the chancellor is all that interested in the… cultural side of your visit." She wasn't trying to poke at sensitive subjects, but as it was such an obvious "quality," she supposed she couldn't be blamed.

"Ah, yes, the chancellor is very good at getting what she wants, but has yet to truly test her skills outside our own Kingdom. She is very well-respected among our people, however."

"I wouldn't doubt it," Garnet replied. "She is likely a force to be reckoned with."

"Quite," Akitis agreed. "Which is why I am here. To smooth out any bumps she might speed over along the way."

They both chuckled lightly.

"It's interesting to me, though, that your personalities vary so widely," Garnet said then. "I met many of the genomes in Bran Bal, years ago, and I would have thought you'd all be… more similar to Mikoto."

Akitis hummed. "While I suppose I can understand why you would think that, Mikoto is quite the individual, just as we all have become. And though I do not want to sound overbearing, I would caution you to… refrain from referring to Terrans as… well, as you have just referred to us."

Garnet furrowed her brow curiously. "As genomes?"

Akitis visibly flinched at the word. "Yes. Many find it… offensive."

"Oh…" Garnet blinked somewhat stupidly. "I had no idea. I'm sorry."

"You couldn't have known," Akitis replied.

"No, I suppose not."

"It is a word that has come to represent something that many of us find to be both distasteful and false."

"A bad word?" Avon questioned then, still leaning his head against Garnet's shoulder as he watched Akitis. "Like a _swear_ word?"

Akitis offered him a generous smile. "Yes, a very bad swear word that you should never say."

"But I want to say it."

"Avon," Garnet scolded lightly.

Akitis released a huffing sigh, clearly amused. "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me."

"You know what happens when you use words you're not supposed to," Garnet added, which had Avon pouting some before he snuggled a bit more securely into her shoulder.

"Has a rebellious streak, does he?" Akitis asked.

"When he can get away with it," Beatrix added from where she walked on Akitis's other side.

"We're finding that it's a very common trait among children that are about his age," Akitis replied.

"There are children among your people?" Garnet asked.

"Certainly. Those born via natural reproduction are, of course, very young still, much like your son."

"So there are children _not_ born of… natural reproduction?"

Akitis once again hummed thoughtfully. "Yes and no. It really is quite dependent upon their soul maturity. Some of us, when we absorbed the souls that now inhabit our bodies, matured at a much faster rate than others. This maturity sped up our physical growth as well. But the pace at which we mature varies, and so some of us are still at an adolescent stage while others—like myself—aged beyond that in a much shorter timeframe."

Garnet tried to digest what she was hearing. "So some of you age faster than others?"

"Well, no. We age to maturity before our bodies begin to regulate themselves at a more universal pace. It is getting to that level of maturity that varies from one of us to the next."

"Is that why your appearance has altered so drastically as well? Do you change as you grow?"

"Our appearance changes relative to our aging process, as is the case with most lifeforms, but I'm not sure I would refer to that as drastic."

"But… all the Terrans I met previously were light skinned and blond…"

"Ah, yes, the society of Bran Bal." Akitis seemed to have come to an understanding on her confusion. "Those living in Bran Bal were the last variation Garland developed—the "golden batch," as some would refer to them as. But he had developed a great variety of vessels prior to those living in Bran Bal."

A statement that raised all sorts of questions. "Then there were more of you in Terra when it was destroyed?"

"Hundreds of thousands more of us, yes."

Garnet couldn't help gaping. "I had no idea."

"Garland was intending to use us to overtake all intelligent life on Gaia. He could not do so with only the couple hundred living in Bran Bal."

"But how did you all survive?"

"Those that you and your party evacuated to the Black Mage Village came back and rescued as many of us as they could."

So that was where all the genomes—No, Terrans, had disappeared to.

"As the story goes, had your party not rescued those in Bran Bal, we all might have perished."

"Then how many of you are there?" Garnet asked, hoping she didn't sound too entirely insensitive in doing so.

"Well over a million."

A number that left Garnet, Steiner, and Beatrix gaping and stunned.

"A million…" Garnet echoed.

"And increasing every day," Akitis continued, clearly feigning as though their shock wasn't as wholly obvious as it was. "It is part of the reason we must start entering into trade negotiations with other kingdoms. While we are mostly self-sustaining, there are a few resources that we find ourselves somewhat lacking in."

"That… makes sense," given their population, or so Garnet reasoned. Terra certainly was a Kingdom, then. One of a size generous enough to match those upon the Mist Continent. And even outstrip a few, such as the Burmicians, who's population had been devastated far more acutely than Lindblum's or Alexandria's.

"A sentiment that many of us share, though there are those that would prefer we remain wholly self-sufficient." She nodded up toward Mikoto. "Though the Chancellor has come here willingly, she is of the party that would prefer we keep ourselves isolated from the rest of Gaia."

"And you are not?"

"I see the merits and cons on both sides. It's likely in our kingdom's best interests that the chancellor is so conservative in these matters, while the king is more open. It creates a balance in our court that has served us well these last few years."

"So she has come despite not wanting to be here?" Beatrix asked.

"In a manner of speaking. But such decisions do ultimately fall to our king to make, thus it is her responsibility to do as he bids her."

"Your king…" Garnet found herself saying thoughtfully.

"Indeed. He is quite liberal in what influence he gives those of the court, but does ultimately hold absolute power."

"How, exactly, did a population such as yours… 'decide' upon a monarchy?" Beatrix asked.

"Quite naturally. It was because of our king's influence that we were saved at all, and because of the maturity of his soul that the rest of us had an example to follow. I don't suppose there could have been anyone else that could have led us during those trying times."

"He saved you," Garnet said, ignoring the way her heart suddenly tightened inside her chest. "How do you mean?"

"As I have come to understand it, he was the one that convinced the Terrans living in the Black Mage Village to return to Shimmering Island in order to try and retrieve the rest of us from the rubble of Terra. And from there he led us further, until we were able to devise a home of our own making. His is… our savior. Indispensable to his people in many ways, and adored by us all, even those who don't always agree with what he thinks is best."

Steiner nodded quite seriously. "He sounds like a very great man, indeed."

"He has taken up responsibilities that none of the rest of us were prepared to take on, and continues to do so now, even as we mature into fully functional individuals. So yes, I would agree, he is a very great man."

"It would take someone of considerable quality to lead your people, given where you started," Beatrix said. "I dare say, I would think the task nay impossible."

"I think it was his faith in us that allowed us to flourish as we have," Akitis replied. "While the chancellor is prone to thinking the king has a bad habit of attempting to brush his responsibilities onto others, I would argue that it's his way of pushing us to do better—of encouraging us to take up issues that we might have otherwise never attempted. I say this mostly because he's always there to help should we slip, or so I have observed. He is always watching us more closely than we realize.

"But the chancellor is correct in some of her evaluations of his character. He is quite good at… presenting ideas without always offering up solutions beyond 'anything is possible if we work hard enough.' One of his favorite platitudes, along with 'just try your best' and 'that's not right.'"

"I could understand why those statements would be quite useless without any further expansion," Beatrix agreed.

"He sounds wise as well as great," Steiner decided staunchly. Almost passionately.

"We would certainly have been lost without him."

"So it would seem…" Garnet agreed quietly, trying to do her best to ignore the way her heart was beating hard in her chest, and how her blood felt abruptly cold within her veins.

"I'm gonna be a king someday," Avon interjected suddenly. "When I'm big and Mom is too old."

"Young Sir, that is quite an inappropriate thing to say," Steiner reprimanded. Which had Avon frowning in confusion.

"But that's what Dr. Tot told me."

"And it is no doubt true," Akitis agreed. "But hopefully it is a future that will not come to pass any time soon."

"It most certainly won't," Steiner agreed. "The queen is in perfect health."

"A very good thing to hear," Akitis agreed, before smiling quite widely down at Avon. "You're quite the clinger."

"What's that?" Avon asked.

"It's a habit that many Terrans your age indulge in," she explained. "It is the practice of remaining attached to a parent with both arms and legs wrapped securely. I would imagine that even if your mother were to release you, you'd stay quite solidly I place."

Which was true. It was partially why Garnet was able to carry Avon around for so long despite his age and size. He held himself attached to her quite well on his own, which made it easier for her to support his weight for longer periods of time.

"I like it when my mom holds me," Avon replied.

"Yes, I would imagine you do."

"It isn't a bad habit, is it?" Beatrix asked suddenly.

"No, of course not," Akitis said. "It's a survival instinct that exists in our makeup. It is quite normal to see young ones clinging to their parents as they carry out their daily activities. Though, as it is a habit that is shared by many of similar ages to your son, it is hard for us to gauge when such behavior will stop." Because they had no examples of naturally-born children older than Avon.

In fact, now that Garnet thought about it, Avon was likely the oldest naturally-born child in possession of Terran heritage.

"Akitis." It was Mikoto that quietly called to her commander, the group ahead of them having come to a halt. They stood in the grand entry corridor of the castle, guards posted around the fountain and at the three halls that led to different areas of the large estate. "Regent Cid and Lady Hilda have made quarters available to us."

"Ah, of course." Bowing once to Garnet, Akitis moved on ahead.

"It's no doubt been a long trip for all of you," Cid was saying. "And it's quite late otherwise. It's no impertinence, that you would all retreat to your rooms. We will make plans to meet again tomorrow."

"I do find that I am rather fatigued," Mikoto agreed, before her shrewd gaze flicked back toward Garnet and Avon. "And I have letters of some importance that I must see to before the night is out."

"Miliard here will show you to your rooms," Cid said, gesturing toward a thick man with a heavy beard who had approached from the hall. A member of the castle staff, no doubt. "He'll tend to any and all your needs, if only you ask."

"Suitable," Mikoto replied, once again focused on Cid. "Thank you for your hospitality—it's very much appreciated."

"Of course." They both offered light bows, before Mikoto and Akitis turned to follow Miliard. The other Terrans trailed them as well, soon vanishing from sight as Garnet and her own party approached Cid.

"This will no doubt become very interesting," Cid said, frowning some as he did.

And while Garnet said nothing in response, the twisting stress in her gut was telling her much the same.

"Have our own rooms been prepared?" Beatrix asked a second later, her question seeming to jolt Cid from his thoughtful funk.

"Hm? Yes, of course. You're all in your regular quarters. Fey is waiting to show you there." One of the staffers that regularly waited on them when they did have occasion to visit. She was a short blond woman who approached at the mentioning of her name.

"Then I think it best we retire as well," Beatrix decided.

"Quite right, quite right," Cid agreed. "We'll talk further on all of this in the morning, hm?" He looked to Garnet as he asked. "Meet me for breakfast in the conference room?"

"Certainly." Garnet nodded, which seemed to be farewell enough for the time being, what with them all being so preoccupied with everything that had happened. They were following Fey down the familiar hall a few moments later, Garnet holding Avon a little more tightly as her thoughts churned in her head. But they were slow-moving thoughts. Guarded thoughts, even, focused more on the few things she'd learned than the potentials she was hesitant to entertain. Yet it was safer to remain distracted with what Akitis had told her than to reach beyond, and so she kept her attention on the bare-bones of their previous conversation as they were ushered into the familiar, two-tiered room.

Trailing Steiner and Beatrix, it wasn't until she was rounding the stairwell into the lower, blue-toned level that she finally pulled some back to the present. Yet even so, there was an acute numbness that permeated her whole body as she brushed by Steiner and Beatrix to head further up the stairs. To the loft adorned in pink with the two beds she and Avon would share.

"Mom?" Avon asked, when Garnet came to a stop upon the pink carpet and did little more than hold him as she stared across at the windows stretching up the stone walls. "Are you okay?"

Garnet offered him a small smile. "I'm fine, just tired." Turning to one of the beds, she carefully placed Avon down upon the blankets. He clung to her a moment longer before finally letting go, any concern he'd worn on her behalf vanishing in light of her assurances. "I'm going to have Steiner come up and get you ready for bed, alright?"

"But I don't want to go to bed," he claimed, before a huge yawn engulfed his entire face.

"Maybe so, but you _need_ to go to bed."

He pouted, but didn't object any further. Steiner was appearing at the top of the stairs a moment later, Garnet watching for only a moment as he began to help the prince undress before she turned her attention back to the windows.

Approaching the three shallow steps that would lead her onto the dais bordering the edge of the room, Garnet headed up and over to the small table and chairs sitting some to the left. Placing a single hand on the tabletop, she closed her eyes and attempted to calm her nerves.

"Are you alright?" It was Beatrix who asked, her general having followed her up onto the dais.

Garnet didn't answer right away, ultimately deciding that it was likely best to be honest. "I don't know," she admitted, doing so breaking through some of the numbness, which allowed for a small tremble to echo through her body.

"I think you should sit down," Beatrix decided, quickly stepping forward and pulling out one of the two chairs. Nodding, Garnet took the offered seat, once again closing her eyes as she settled into place.

Remaining silent, Beatrix placed herself in the chair on the other side of the table, waiting patiently as Garnet gathered her thoughts.

"I never would have imagined the Terrans to have… progressed in the manner that they have," she eventually started.

"Nor I," Beatrix agreed. "But it seems we were missing a great many details relating to the matter."

Finally opening her eyes again, Garnet looked to her general. "Where do you think they've even come from?"

"It's hard to say. On one hand, they may have taken root on the Outer Continent, near to the black mages. But, then again, the Forgotten Continent is far more isolated and less populated. And seeing as they have airship technology that surpasses our own, it wouldn't be entirely difficult for them to participate in trade with the black mages while still retaining a generous distance. Though, if their numbers are what they claim, I would be curious to know what sort of trade would be useful to them with a population as small as the black mages."

"They must be mostly self-sustaining, as Commander Akitis claimed."

"They are not at all what anyone expected."

"No…"

A pause came in their discussion, Garnet turning away at the same time. Her attention fell to a mirror leaning against the banister, her own reflection staring back at her.

It was strange, how the years had seemed both long and short. She looked in the mirror some days and saw a woman that had changed very little, while at the same time was acutely aware of how much she'd aged since she'd taken the throne. The adventures she'd partaken in so long ago seemed like more than a distant memory. Almost like another life.

Yet remnants of her quest and the war remained, like reminders when she felt so far removed from such things.

She'd never grown her hair out again, instead keeping it short. It was more convenient to do so, and reminded her daily of the strides she'd made since becoming queen. And as the years had worn on, she'd gradually given up wearing heavy, bulbous gowns as well. Instead, she'd gained an appreciation for attire of a hybrid type. The white bodice and sleeves of her outfit remained white, poofing some at the shoulders and tapering at her wrists. The top itself was form-fitting beneath her bust, turning into a matching leotard that rode high on her hips. It was not wholly unlike the armor the female soldiers serving under Beatrix wore, albeit in white cloth as opposed to plate armor. From there, her legs were covered in orange leggings, which were eventually tucked inside her preferred red ankle-boots. But in order to keep up the formality of her position, she had added a long, train-like skirt to her outfit. It attached at either side of her hips and cascaded down behind her like the back of gown, fading from white to orange down its length. Two brown, leather belts crossed at the lower section of her torso, holding the train firmly in place.

Her outfit mirrored those of her soldiers so closely, in fact, that many in Alexandria had come to call her the Warrior Queen. She assumed such a title was also inspired by her involvement in the last war, as well as the fact that she regularly carried her magic racket around with her.

"Highness?" Beatrix asked, when Garnet had been silent for some many moments.

"I suppose we can't know any more details for now," she found herself saying, her voice sounding mechanical, even to herself. "It is likely best not to speculate."

"I suppose," Beatrix agreed slowly. She seemed to hesitate then, before ultimately deciding to continue. "I'll be very interested in learning more about their king."

Pursing her lips, Garnet refused to meet Beatrix's imploring gaze. Which seemed to get the message across well enough.

"I think I'll prepare for bed as well," Beatrix said as she stood. "Until the morning, My Queen." With a single bow, she was soon retreating back down the stairs, all the way to the first level where she and Steiner would be staying.

Pulling her attention up, Garnet stared across the banister to the shrouded loft where she'd left Avon. Steiner had finished preparing him for bed, having swathed him in his pale bed clothes. He was sprawled out on the furthest bed, already asleep with Pickle tucked up beside his head.

Garnet stared at him for a long time, well after Steiner and Beatrix had doused the oil lamps below, leaving only the glare of those between her own bed and Avon's.

She stared and stared, and tried not to think about all the possibilities wanting to barge into her thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hu hu, Cid's right, things will get interesting.
> 
> So I'm not usually one for original characters-I try to use any and all available canon characters whenever possible-but I wanted a character that was kind of to Zidane what Beatrix is to Garnet, hence Akitis. I thought that maybe Mikoto would do it, but I wanted to kind of (comically) stick to her canon personality, which wouldn't make her a great character for relaying information, as she is more likely to keep info secret than explain things.
> 
> She is, however, the type to address a situation as soon as possible, so... yeah...
> 
> Heh, anyway, hope you guys are still enjoying and if you can, PLEASE spare a comment, thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

"What's this?" Blank questioned, taking the folded piece of parchment even as he asked.

"A message from Chancellor Mikoto," the delivery retainer explained. "It only just arrived in the letter pot and is royally sealed." Which meant it was of grave importance that the king see it.

"Thank you, I'll get it to him," Blank said stiffly, closing the door in the retainer's face as he stared curiously down at the letter. As it was closed up with the royal seal, he wasn't at liberty to open it without permission. But that didn't mean he couldn't hold it up to the light in order to try and get a better idea.

Not that doing so did much good, as Terran parchment wasn't usually transparent enough for him to get a clue. Still, he tried, his nerves twitching some when doing so failed to produce any results.

"Who was that?" Marcus asked as Blank headed down the shallow stairs leading into the circular room where all his friends had unceremoniously placed themselves. Cinna was on the far side of the room, plunking away at a piano in his attempts learn how to play. Marcus was laid out on a cushy blue sofa. And Ruby was primping herself in front of a large mirror hanging between two bookcases.

Lastly was the king himself. He sat at a table in the center of the blue-coded room, sloppily slurping some noodles between his lips and splattering broth across whatever official documents he was reading.

"Delivery guy," Blank replied simply, putting his attention on the king as he did. "Letter from your sister."

"Already?" The king huffed. "What could she possibly have to say at this time of night? They've probably only just arrived in Lindblum."

"It's probably a list of complaints," Marcus replied, chuckling some to himself as he did.

"It's stamped down with a royal seal," Blank added, holding the letter up for the room to inspect.

"Always so dramatic," Marcus said.

"I give you permission to open it," the king said far too formally. "Now read it aloud to me while I eat, peasant."

Blank rolled his eyes. "Sure thing, your _majesty_."

The king laughed and returned his attention to his food.

Yet, despite his lax attitude, Blank was only growing more anxious as he slid his nail beneath the letter's seal.

Though no members of Tantalus (aside from the king himself) were part of the civil guild, they were still privy to intimate decisions being made by default of being so close to the king. They weren't advisers, exactly, as they weren't even Terran, but they were the King's best friends nonetheless and so had an ear in on nearly everything. Even if the Terrans didn't exactly appreciate "outsiders" being so close to their beloved sovereign.

As such, they'd known the day it'd been decided that Mikoto would take a team to the Mist Continent to start trade negotiations with Lindblum. It was big news, after all, as Terra hadn't participated in trade with anyone aside from the black mages. There was much buzz about it in the court and in the streets, the whole kingdom seeming to be on edge about the whole ordeal.

And while Blank felt much the same, his reasons for feeling so were quite different.

Then again, Mikoto was going to Lindblum, not Alexandria, so perhaps the whole situation yet remained under wraps. They'd all discussed—"they" being the none-Terran members of Tantalus—whether or not they should address "the issue" after it'd been decided that Mikoto would make contact with Lindblum, but none of them ultimately had the courage to tell the king the truth. Which would likely come back to bite them, but it was a little too late to avoid that anyway. Might as well push off the inevitable as long as possible.

"Let's see here," Blank started as he unfolded the letter. "' _To Lord Zidane Tribal Van Garland_ ,'—she really needs to chill on the formalities."

"Mikoto loves formalities," Zidane said simply, slurping more noodles as he did. "Don't ruin her fun."

Blank continued: "' _As you have probably deduced, we've arrived safely at Lindblum Castle. The regent was surprised by our arrival, but not unwelcoming—as you predicted. He appears to be in perfectly adequate health, as does the Lady Hilda, per your request to "know how they've been doing." It was also made clear that they had participated in the adoption of the young summoner girl from Madain Sari that had previously accompanied you on your travels. A "Lady Eiko," as she was introduced._ '"

Zidane practically choked on his noodles. "Cid and Hilda adopted Eiko?! Did you guys know that?!"

Ruby tuned into the conversation. "There was talk of it before we left, but nothin' had been decided for certain."

"Eiko made heir to Lindblum? I bet she was thrilled, getting to become a princess." Zidane turned his attention back to his food yet again. "Jeez, what else haven't you guys told me?"

Blank cast Cinna a warning look as he banged down on the wrong piano key.

"We've been here with you for almost six years," Marcus interjected. "Not like we're any more updated on what's been going on back home than you are."

"You make it sound like I've been holding you prisoner or something," Zidane muttered, frowning some as he did. Which only had Blank feeling all the worse, despite how he fought the feeling.

That was the thing about Zidane these days. As the years continued to pass by, the faster and faster he seemed to fall into a frown. And not just a thoughtless frown. No, his frowns were always accompanied by this deep sadness that only seemed to increase more and more with each passing day. Add in the stress of his job and all the responsibilities on his plate and, well, the light-hearted flirt they'd all grown up with was becoming harder and harder to find.

Zidane spent most of his time in a state of complete seriousness these days. Sure, he still cracked jokes and made light-hearted comments, but there was a sharpness to his gaze that made it obvious to anyone who _really_ knew him just how invested he was in everything going on around him, even when he was pretending like he wasn't. It seemed to come to him habitually, feigning laziness or boredom when in reality it was the complete opposite. That was just how Zidane got through the monotony of the day, filing all details away in the back of his mind even as he moved on to other endeavors.

Zidane was smart. Always had been, really. And resourceful, which had aided him considerably in leading the Terrans. His passion had inspired them, his excitement invigorating them. He was a natural leader with a good head and a moral heart. Which was a positive in some lights, but also detrimental.

Good people in positions of power were always worn down faster. The saying went that absolute power corrupted absolutely, but Blank had found that when it came to power being thrust onto someone who didn't want it, it was more prone to causing premature and constant exhaustion than it was corruption.

Zidane was constantly tired. Blank couldn't remember the last time he'd looked at Zidane and not seen the weight of every Terran citizen in his expression. He was acutely aware of the power he had and what that meant for _all_ the people around him—all the people he felt responsible for serving and protecting.

It was terrible, really, because Zidane was the perfect personality to care for others—always had been. But it was that same personality that made it near impossible for him care for or about himself. Which was why Tantalus had never left him, not after they'd finally figured out what had happened to him. Truth be told, Blank felt as though they let him down a lot of the time, unable to help him despite their best efforts to do so. But he seemed to appreciate them being there nonetheless, especially when things were at their hairiest.

Which was also part of the reason Blank dreaded what could potentially result from contact with the Mist Continent. If Zidane found out the truth…

Just thinking about it made Blank sick to his stomach.

"' _I commented on their prudent decision to have brought someone in possession of such great power into their family, which appeared to offend them._ '" Blank kept reading. "' _Commander Akitis managed to alleviate the situation, however, so little damage was done to our relations._ '"

Zidane released a knowing hum. "That's why I sent her along."

Blank continued once again. "' _We've had little time to talk otherwise, be it with the regent or anyone else. He has afforded us suitable rooms and promised to speak with us more in-depth on the issues at hand tomorrow. I will be sure to send you updates on our negotiations as they progress._ '"

"It really is too bad you guys developed that instant letter-pot delivery vase thing," Marcus cut in. "She'll be sending you letters every hour."

Zidane shrugged. "I don't mind."

Of course he didn't. Despite her lackluster personality, Zidane adored his little sister. He somehow managed to find more humor in her attitude than anyone else could, Mikoto herself included. But Zidane generally tried to see the good in everyone and everything, even when it was near-impossible.

"' _All Lindblum business aside,_ '" Blank took up reading yet again, "' _there is another issue that has presented itself not only to me, but to all the Terrans present during our docking at Lindblum Castle. As it is an issue of potentially grave importance, I beg you set your entire focus on what I have to say from here on:_ '"

Not something Mikoto said often, as she generally seemed to think everything she had to say was important despite Zidane oftentimes waving her concerns aside. That she'd specifically ask for him to pay attention meant that whatever she had to say was likely vital indeed.

Knowing this just as well, Zidane desisted eating in order to turn to Blank, his expression both curious and concerned as he listened.

Blank, meanwhile, felt his whole person begin to sink with helplessness as he continued. "' _As we disembarked, we were greeted not only by the regent and his family, but the queen of Alexandria, Garnet Til Alexandros XVII_.'"

"Dagger…" Zidane murmured, his expression lighting up for only a second before it was quickly doused by layers of regret, depression, and desperation—feelings his friends had often seen painted across his face when he'd turn a sad eye to the eastern horizon.

Yet, at that moment, little sympathy was felt among the rest of the group. Not because they were lacking in understanding of Zidane's situation, but because their own tense anxiety over what they all knew was inevitably coming had overtaken anything and everything else. Marcus was suddenly sitting up, rigid in his seat, while Ruby had closed her eyes and was mentally preparing herself. Cinna, remaining at the back of the room, visibly slumped and twisted his fingers together with unease.

Swallowing hard, Blank yet persisted. "' _Apparently the queen had only just arrived shortly before we had, in order to attend a Lindblum holiday. Ultimately, the reason for her presence is not related to the issue at hand, so I won't expand on that any further. What I must absolutely draw your attention to is the company she kept when we encountered one another. That being, the very significant presence of her young son._ '"

"Son…" Zidane echoed hollowly, sinking back some in his seat. Blank came to a stop in his reading then, uncertain if he should interrupt Zidane's thought process or not. "Dagger had a baby? She…" He was clearly trying to digest the news, as well as all the implications that went along with it.

Turning away, he stared dejectedly down at the documents strewn about upon his table. "I suppose it'd be ludicrous to expect she'd wait forever…"

"Blank!" Ruby hissed, startling him into continuing.

"' _While I was somewhat aware that you and the queen of Alexandria were once on intimate terms with one another, I was never wholly certain of the depth of that intimacy, nor did I feel it any of my business to inquire. At that time, in any case. But the situation is quite altered these many years later, and so I feel firmly justified in further interrogation of your personal matters._ '"

A long-winded statement that had Zidane looking up once again, confusion apparent behind his acute misery and heartache.

"' _It was obvious to both myself and everyone present—much to my displeasure, mind you—that the child was of Terran descent. True, he shared in features that would align him with his summoner mother, but the tail trademark of our people was also obviously present. I have not been made privy to his age, but I do not think it unlikely that he could have been conceived prior to your separation from the queen of—'_ "

Blank didn't get the chance to finish. Zidane was on his feet in a flash, reaching out and ripping the letter from Blank's hands. Which had Blank stumbling back some, both because of Zidane's abrupt actions and because he was a little afraid of how Zidane was going to react.

After all, Zidane was a lot bigger these days than he had been as they'd grown up together. They'd beat on each other plenty in their younger years, having been around the same size a majority of the time. But where Blank had pretty much evened out at 5'8" by the time he was eighteen, Zidane had just kept growing. And growing. And _growing_. Which seemed a pretty normal thing for Terrans, who were tall as a general rule. But even among them, Zidane was above average.

Mikoto had said his height was likely attributed to Garland's personal hand in his development, like her own and Kuja's. And as Zidane was meant to be the strongest of the three of them by default of being created as a "growing child," it would "make sense" for this to be reflected in his matured size. Kuja had topped out at about 6'4" and Zidane was slightly taller than that, so he'd become a rather imposing, intimidating figure over the years. But even putting his height aside, he was by no means a twig or lacking in muscle.

The point, in any case, was that Blank was certain Zidane could easily pick any of them up and toss them out the window if he so desired. Which made distance all the more crucial to survival.

Visibly tense, everyone in the room watched as Zidane's eyes darted back and forth over the letter, his own posture growing more and more rigid in tandem with how his cheeks paled. An avid writer, Mikoto had filled up nearly two pages, Zidane flipping back and forth between them as he seemingly read and re-read her script.

Moving across the room, Ruby came to stand at Blank's side, while Cinna wavered nervously on the other side of the table. Marcus was the most calm, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at his feet.

The heavy silenced continued on for many long, torturous moments, until Zidane finally seemed to digest the news. The letter crumpled some in his hand as he finally looked up, his severe, calculating expression focused on the windows straight ahead of him.

"Is this true?" he eventually asked, his tone darker than Blank had ever heard it. No, Zidane wasn't the type to lose his temper often, or even give into frustration all that easily. He ruled the Terrans with kindness and empathy, more likely to forgive and forget than hold onto his anger. And so Blank knew that only the gravest of circumstances would result in the fury currently echoing in his voice.

Finally, he turned to them, some seconds after they'd failed to answer his initial question. "Did you _know_ about this?" he asked, holding up the crumpled letter as he did.

Marcus released a defeated breath. "It's why we came looking for you in the first place," he started. "At the very least, we were hoping to find evidence of whatever had happened to you. Just so Garnet would know for certain—so she'd have something to tell your son someday."

Zidane's lips pursed tight, his hands balling into fists.

"But when we _did_ eventually find you," Blank cut in, "things with you were, well, you know…"

"You were trying to find a home for hundreds of thousands of people," Marcus continued. "The Terrans were running out of food, supplies. It was a complete shit-show!"

"We just thought that maybe we'd wait," Ruby said gently. "Wait until things weren't so belly-up. After all, wasn't like you were goin' to to drop everythin' even if we had told ya."

"So you decided you'd _never_ tell me?" Zidane accused.

"We wanted to tell you," Cinna said shakily. "But it was like there was never a right time."

"Right time?!" Zidane barked. "In six years, you couldn't find the 'right time?!'"

"We didn't want to add any more stress," Blank defended. "It's like one thing after another after another in this place. You never get a break. It's like one problem gets solved and another comes in and messes everything up. What you're dealing with out here isn't anything like the normal stuff a king has to deal with. And we just… We wanted to say something, but every time we thought about it, it just seemed like…"

"Like it wouldn't matter if we told you, because you couldn't abandon your responsibilities here anyway," Marcus finished.

Zidane growled, pacing once in a circle before whipping around on them all once again. "That is such bullshit!" he snapped. "I don't care what it is we've been dealing with out here or how stressed out I am! I had a right to know about—about my own _child_!"

"He was safe in Alexandria," Blank added weakly, having known from the start that nothing they said could really make this right.

"That doesn't matter! How—How could you—" He was shaking his head, appearing both frazzled and irate. "All this time, Dagger's been—" Pacing away from them, he leaned his hands heavily atop the table, his body visibly trembling. "I can't believe this. All this time…"

"We didn't… We didn't mean for it to go on this long, sugar," Ruby said.

"But then it just became so long and we… we didn't know _how_ to tell you anymore…" Blank admitted.

For many long moments, Zidane said nothing, seemingly content to stare down at the table. But after some time, he did finally turn to look back at them.

"What's his name?" he asked quietly, though his tone practically demanded they answer.

Blank took in a shaky breath. "Avon."

His whole expression contorted in agony. "Get out."

Blank and Marcus shared a look, while Ruby took a step toward him.

"Zidane…" she called quietly, which only had him turning furiously on them all.

"I said get out!" he ordered, both Cinna and Ruby flinching back. "All of you, leave! Now!"

Which was the lesser of everything Blank had anticipated. Reaching out, he grabbed Ruby around the wrist and tugged her back, while Marcus nodded in understanding and turned to head toward the door. Cinna skirted around the edge of the room to meet up with them, Blank the last to leave as the others walked out ahead of him.

He looked back over his shoulder just once as he exited, but Zidane once again had his back to them.

Closing the door behind him, Blank slumped some following, while the others all turned back once the barrier between themselves and Zidane was safely sealed.

"I told you we should have told him _years_ ago!" Cinna hissed out a second later.

"Yes, we know," Marcus rebuked, clearly frustrated as he rubbed at his temples with the tips of his fingers.

"He's never gonna forgive us!" Cinna continued.

"We know!" both Marcus and Blank barked.

"We been knowin' that for a long time," Ruby added lastly.

Plain and simple, they'd screwed up. They all knew they had—they'd been aware of the fact for quite a few years, as it were. But it was done and there wasn't anything they could do to change that. The only thing to do was apologize, which wouldn't go very far in meaning anything given the information they'd been withholding this whole time.

"Guess we had better grab our things an' git on outta here," Ruby said a second later.

"Wait, what?" Cinna looked between them all frantically. "What do you mean?"

"He told us to leave," Marcus said simply.

"Yeah, like leave the room!"

Blank shook his head. "That's not what he meant. There's not much in the way of forgiveness for what we've done. He's not going to be interested in seeing any of us for a long, long time." If ever again.

"But—But we're _family_!" Cinna insisted.

"Maybe so, but that don't matter after what we did," Ruby replied.

"I told you we should have told him!" Cinna cried.

"Then why didn't you?!" Blank practically yelled. "All you've been doing this whole time is whining and crying about how we should tell him, but you never did! You could have walked right up to him and told him, but you didn't! You waited around for someone else to do it! You're just as bad as the rest of us, so you can quit with the desperate sobbing!"

"Bro…" Marcus said warningly.

"I'm tired of it! Not like the rest of us don't feel horrible too!"

"Y'all need to stop!" Ruby said, stomping her foot as she did. "What's done is done. Ain't no point in us squabblin' with each other about it!"

"The best thing we can do is respect his wishes," Marcus decided. "And that means leaving."

Which was certainly what they'd end up doing, but that didn't mean Blank—or any of the rest of them—were comfortable with the idea.

"I'm not sure about leaving him here alone," Blank admitted. "Just because he was born Terran, doesn't mean he is." A sentiment they all understood. Maybe Zidane had been created the same way all the other Terrans had been, but he'd grown up on Gaia. And while plenty of the Terrans were well and good in getting along with, none of them were like Zidane. He was alone as their king enough as it was, Tantalus being his only real, close friends—aside from Commander Akitis, perhaps. Without them there, what did he have? A sister who he couldn't relate to and a commander that tried her best to understand him, but ultimately couldn't?

Just those two, and an entire population of people who needed more from him than he was always capable of giving.

"Maybe it's not our responsibility to worry about it," Marcus pointed out. "That's what got us in this mess in the first place, right? Worrying about things instead of just telling the truth? If Zidane wants us to go, then maybe that's what we should do."

"And just leave him?" Cinna asked.

"It's not like we were much help to him here in the first place," Marcus continued. "We were practically ladies-in-waiting. He'd tell us what was going on sometimes, but there was no expectation of us being able to do anything about it. We've just been hanging out here for years, waiting on him while he became this—this super important person way, way above our paygrade."

"I don't think he ever viewed us that way," Cinna muttered.

"That's not the point. He's a _king_ ," Marcus stressed. "Yeah, the title didn't mean much in the beginning, when everything was, well, terrible, but things have changed. A lot. He deals with stuff every day that we can't even wrap out heads around. And what little we were involved in, we messed up."

"What, exactly, are you sayin'?" Ruby asked.

"Regent Cid and Baku are friends, but Baku's not hanging around him day and night. Why? Because Baku isn't fit for that kind of life. And neither are we."

Cinna shook his head. "But Zidane is one of us."

"No, he's not," Blank agreed firmly, despite any of his doubts. "And I don't really think he ever was. From the very beginning, he was… distant. Baku found him and raised him, and only let him join the troupe way after the rest of us dirty orphans had. Why? Because even Baku knew there was something different about him. And even though Zidane acts like one of us when it suits him, he's just as willing to leave when the time calls for it. To 'find himself' or his past or to save a princess or some other big-deal thing we only ever get to tag along for when it's convenient."

Ruby clicked her tongue. "Well, so what?"

"So maybe this is where he's supposed to be, and where we're not," Marcus added lastly.

Cinna stared at the floor, appearing suddenly ashamed. "I do want to go home, but… what if we're abandoning him?"

"What are we supposed to do? Just hang out in this huge castle until we die, doing nothing?" Blank asked.

"I don't know, I just—"

Their conversation was cut abruptly short as one of the lieutenants came rushing suddenly around the corner. He banged into the wall opposite he was moving so fast, before scrambling forward and sprinting down the hall toward them.

"The King?!" he blurted. "Where is he?!"

"He's busy," Blank said sharply, stepping out in front of Zidane's door as he did.

The pale, purple-haired lieutenant scowled a bit at Blank's defensive motion, before once again being overcome by haste.

"The southern lines have been breached," he said strictly, before bodily pushing Blank aside. "The king needs to know immediately." Not even bothering with casting the ragtag group of Gaians another look, he shoved his way into Zidane's official office, announcing the emergency even as he burst in.

Standing back from the door, the four outside had only to wait a few seconds before the lieutenant was once again rushing out, Zidane marching quickly behind him.

He didn't even look at them as he passed.

**oOo**

_"What're you doin' out here?"_

_Somewhat startled, Dagger turned from where she was standing at the airship window, not really all that surprised to find Zidane coming up behind her. He had a curious cock to his brow, his tail twitching in a manner that likely meant he was up to no good._

_"Just looking out the window," she said, turning so her attention was back on the clouds swishing by._

_Zidane came up to stand beside her, which she didn't mind in the least. Aside from the daunting task ahead of them, the Invincible was a cold, foreign ship that reminded her of all the terrors that had thus far rocked her life. Having him there beside her somehow eased that ache, and reminded her to focus more on the now, instead of everything ahead and behind them._

_"Whatcha thinkin' about?" he asked after a few seconds of silence had passed between them._

_"About where we're headed," she said honestly. "So much has happened. I just… I hope we're strong enough."_

_"We are," he assured simply, reaching out and laying a single hand on her shoulder. "We've been through enough together by now to take on anything, right? So long as we're together?"_

_She offered him a weak smile. "Yeah, I guess you're right."_

_"We just gotta keep moving forward," he continued, returning his attention to the window as he did. "So long as we do that, then everything'll be okay…"_

_"Keep moving forward, huh?" she repeated._

_"Yeah. I mean, I think anyway."_

_"I thought you were more of an 'appreciate the now' kind of guy?" She'd meant her question to be more humorous than anything else, and so was surprised when Zidane abruptly frowned, before he crouched down. Running his finger over the floor of the ship, he released a deep, heavy sigh._

_"Zidane?"_

_"I do think it's important to live in the now," he said quietly. "But I've also been thinking a lot lately and, well, with everything that's happened…"_

_"What's wrong?"_

_"Garland, he—he created me to be this Angel of Death, just like Kuja," he started. "That was supposed to be my future. I spent so much of my life wondering where I came from and who I was that I guess I always thought that once I figured all that out, I'd have a better idea of where my life was headed. But now that I know, I guess… I guess the future is even more cloudy than it was before."_

_Frowning, Dagger crouched down beside him. "Why do you say that?"_

_Finally, he looked back over at her. "What's gonna happen when all of this is over? And I don't mean, like, big scale, existential, heavy stuff. I just mean… about all the small stuff, I guess."_

_"The small stuff?"_

_"You're queen of Alexandria," he pointed out. "The last time I was faced with that reality, I… I almost let you go…"_

_A statement that was finally lending Dagger some understanding._

_"Then don't let me go," she said firmly, reaching out to lay her hand over his arm as she did. "Stay with me."_

_"Stay with you…" he echoed. "In Alexandria?"_

_"Would you not want that?"_

_He scoffed. "I guess I never really thought of it as an option."_

_"You'd rather go back to Lindblum and be part of Tantalus?"_

_"I mean, I love Tantalus, but… I don't know. I'm always leaving."_

_Dagger laughed._

_"And then whenever I go back, Baku's always super pissed and ends up beating the crap out of me. So I could do without that constant in my life."_

_Dagger hummed thoughtfully. "Does he really beat you?"_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"You've said that before, but I can't always tell if you're being serious or exaggerating."_

_"Ah." He took a deep breath, sitting back on his butt as he did. "I mean, yes and no. Baku's, like… So he took me in and raised me, so I definitely owe him a lot. But he also never really lets me forget it."_

_Sitting down as well, Dagger folded her legs to the side and settled in to listen._

_"He's got this real serious thing about loyalty, I guess, and he really, really loves what he does. Which makes him kind of blind to the fact that the rest of us don't always really love stealing and being broke all the time. The stealing bit is fun, the being broke part which justifies the stealing, not so much."_

_"You can't make a living performing?"_

_"Depends on the season. And Baku always kept a lot of what we earned, for maintenance on the theater ship and stuff. It was like, we had a free place to live and eat, but we didn't really get anything outside of that. And the guy who runs the place where you live expects that you stay loyal to him and follow his rules all the time. And when you don't, he's gonna beat you as punishment. But he also kind of loves you, so it's like he's beating you because he loves you?"_

_"I… don't think that's right."_

_"Yeah, probably not…"_

_For a second, Dagger just watched him, until she was finally able to find the courage to ask what was really on her mind. "What was it like for you, growing up? And I mean really? Don't just brush me aside."_

_"I never brush you aside."_

_"Zidane."_

_He huffed. "What do you want to know? Baku fed and clothed me until I was old enough to earn my keep in the troupe, and the rest was just a lot of stealing and hiding and sometimes being hungry, but usually being able to steal when you were hungry. At least I had a 'family' to look out for me, so long as I was there to look out for them."_

_"And when you weren't?"_

_"Then I was just doing all those things on my own."_

_Dagger scooted a little closer to him. "Would you miss your 'family,' if you left them for good?"_

_He shrugged. "I guess so. But I don't think I'd be mad if I never had to go back either. Sometimes I wonder if that's why Baku beat me when I came home—because maybe he kept hoping I'd find something better and he was always pissed when I didn't."_

_"You really think that?"_

_"Hmm, only on my best days. I mostly think Baku's a bit too selfish to think that way, but a guy can dream, right?" He turned to her, wearing a bright smile as he did._

_"Well, if you came to Alexandria, your life would never have to be like that again."_

_Leaning in a bit closer to her, his smile turned devious. "What would my life be like?"_

_Refusing to give into his humor, Dagger stayed completely serious. "You'd be made the Prince Consort, which would require that everyone respect you on my behalf."_

_"Prince Consort?" he asked, his lip curling a bit as he did. "You mean, like… like…"_

_"Like?"_

_His gaze turned shrewd. "Are you asking me to marry you?"_

_"I'm stating facts."_

_"How romantic."_

_"Besides, we're already married."_

_"Valid point. So when are you gonna tell Steiner about that?"_

_"About what?"_

_"About us getting hitched once-upon-a-time?"_

_"Why would I tell him about that?"_

_"I don't know. I mostly just want to be there when you do."_

_She smacked him lightly on the arm. "You're terrible. And Steiner's become quite fond of you besides."_

_"His eyes would still go all buggy and that vein in his forehead would get all throbby and red."_

_"He's lightened up a lot lately."_

_"Yeah, sure."_

_It was Dagger's turn to look a bit devious. "I'd even go so far as to call you guys friends."_

_"Why are you being so mean to me?"_

_She laughed a bit to herself, while Zidane pretended for only a second longer that he was offended, before he was once again smiling at her._

_"So what's a Prince Consort do, then?" he asked._

_"Hmm, well, you'd have to clean up well and look very pretty for all important events."_

_"Not a problem, obviously."_

_"And you'd have to learn how to run everything that goes on in the castle. Right now there's a retainer, but if you were the Prince Consort, all that responsibility would fall to you."_

_"So I'd get to boss everyone around. Good, good."_

_"Everyone but me," she corrected._

_"Of course not. I imagine my responsibilities when it comes to you would entail a great deal more."_

_"Like what?"_

_"Like… welcoming you back to your rooms after a long, strenuous day," he said, reaching out and sliding a few strands of her short hair through his fingers as he did. "And waking up with you in the morning, whereupon I would do my very best to convince you to stay."_

_For just a second, Dagger bit her bottom lip, considering exactly how she should respond to such a statement. Normally she'd call out his lewdness, but this felt different somehow. Less like he was trying to get a rise out of her and more like he was whispering something very secret in her ear._

_"And what would you be doing in-between?" she asked quietly._

_"In-between what?"_

_"In-between welcoming me back to my rooms and waking up in the morning."_

_His eyebrows rose just a fraction, before he leaned his head in even closer to her own._

_"I suppose there are a great many things_ _**we** _ _could do," he murmured. "Though it is, admittedly, hard to say at this point."_

_"Why's that?"_

_"Well, we've been married a while now and haven't gotten anywhere_ _**near** _ _consummating the event." A claim that had Dagger's stomach surging up toward her chest. "Quite frankly, all this waiting is making it really difficult for me to focus." A statement that rang with more honesty than either of them had probably expected._

_Dagger took a steadying breath. "And how many girls have you said that to?"_

_He laughed. "How many girls have I asked to consummate a marriage? Seeing as you're the only girl I've ever 'married' and the only one I ever intend on marrying, I'd have to say none."_

_Not really the answer Dagger was looking for, but one that did more than satisfy any of her doubts, of which she had very few._

_Pressing her forehead up against his own, their noses barely brushed as she blinked up at him._

_"Okay," she murmured, able to feel the way Zidane tensed following._

_"Okay?" he asked, equally as quiet._

_Reaching out, Dagger ignored the jitters running through her body as she placed her hands on his chest. "I love you, Zidane."_

_Something in his expression changed then. She could see it in the bright blue of his eyes, how whatever barrier had been clouding them previously disappeared. All that was left instead was acute vulnerability. And insecurity too, as he searched her gaze._

_"I want to be with you," she admitted, despite not knowing exactly what she was asking for. But the world in which she was queen and he was her prince was so far removed from where they were then. It seemed like an entirely different reality. Not unattainable, but just… distant. And though there were many things weighing her down, she wanted to try and live in the present with him. To take advantage of whatever short moments they had together. Because no matter his "certainty" in how things would turn out, they both knew from experience that, in the end, anything could happen._

_And Dagger didn't want to live a life of regret._

_"Alright," he whispered, reaching up to cradle her cheeks in his hands. "Okay."_

Eyes fluttering open, Garnet gasped quietly at the startled jolt that echoed up through her chest, her vision momentarily fuzzy as the memory began to fade. But gradually, the pink canopy above her head began to come into focus, as did the familiar ache that always seemed to be throbbing somewhere in her heart.

For some moments, she lay paralyzed in bed, unable to stop her thoughts from diving once more back into the past. Back onto the Invincible, in the small room she and Zidane had stolen away to. He'd been so careful with her, ignorant as she'd been. Gentle, but also passionate in a way that had left her breathless.

One single moment amongst all the rest in her life. A moment she would never speak of to anyone but him. A moment that should have been a sweet memory, but was now shrouded in grief without closure.

Would she forever dream of it, unable to move forward? Why couldn't she move forward? It'd been years, yet she still didn't know how to let go of that part of her past.

Maybe, deep down, she didn't want to.

Turning her head upon her pillow, she glanced over at the bed beside her own. Still sleeping sounding, Avon had curled onto his side, his tail twitching up between his legs. He was peaceful. Safe because of all the sacrifices she and so many others had made.

It was a thought that eased her some, allowing her to take her sorrow and box it back up as best she could.

Watching her son a second longer, she soon found the gumption to sit up. Early morning sunlight was already filtering in through the windows, reminding her of all that was ahead for the day.

Best to get up and ready—she had to meet her uncle for breakfast.

Pushing herself to her feet, she quietly got dressed and ready. Just as she was on the final step of adjusting her hair, Steiner made his way up the stairs. Both he and Beatrix had been awake prior to her even rising, but had remained downstairs so as to grant her some privacy. Yet as the morning was ever-ticking on, it was inevitably time for Avon to get up as well. Oftentimes, he'd already be awake, but the day before had been an exciting one, so Garnet wasn't surprised he'd slept in a bit longer.

"Time to be waking, young prince," Steiner was saying as he rounded Avon's bed, his stern voice causing Avon to frown in his sleep.

"Are we off to meet the regent?" Beatrix asked as she followed Steiner up the stairs.

"Shortly. He's usually at breakfast at around nine," Garnet replied.

Beatrix nodded, while Avon finally pushed himself up in bed. He appeared rather droopy as he stared up at Steiner, but was pulled out of his funk within a few moments, after seemingly remembering that he was not at home in his own bed.

"Are we gonna talk to more of those guys with tails? Like me?" he was asking as Beatrix assisted Garnet in straightening the back of her skirt.

"The queen will," Steiner said simply, helping Avon in the removal of his nightshirt. "But you have lessons to attend to."

"No…" Avon whined, slumping yet again.

"There is no point in lamenting the inevitable," Steiner replied, having absolutely no sympathy.

"But I wanna talk to that lady with the blue hair again," he said.

"You'll likely get to chat with quite a few of the Terrans at dinner," Garnet reassured, which seemed to up his spirits some.

"Do you think any of those guys knew my dad?" he asked then, a question which had both Garnet and Beatrix freezing. Steiner, meanwhile, didn't appear the least bit perturbed.

"Chancellor Mikoto knew your father," he replied, seeming much more intent on getting Avon dressed than in any conversation they were having.

"The mean lady?" he asked, looking both aghast and disgusted.

"Now, manners," Steiner scolded, pausing to warn Avon with the raising of a single eyebrow. "Chancellor Mikoto is your aunt—you'd do well to show respect."

"My aunt?"

"Your father's sister," Beatrix clarified.

Their explanation had Avon looking between them all, his eyes as wide as saucers as he attempted to digest the information. Yet, ultimately, he didn't appear to wholly grasp what they were saying, or perhaps he did and wasn't able to find any true significance in it given the circumstances. He remained thoughtfully quiet as a result.

"We should get going," Beatrix said a second later, looking to Garnet as she did.

Nodding, Garnet moved to Avon's bed, placing a farewell kiss on the top of his head even as Steiner was buttoning his shirt into place. Her son didn't acknowledge her, frowning some and clearly thinking of other things.

"I'll see you later," she said, which finally had him looking her way as she started down the stairs with Beatrix. He waved, a gesture Garnet returned before he was fully out of sight.

"He seemed quite perplexed," Beatrix started as they left their room behind.

"The only aunts he has aren't actually related to him," Garnet replied. "He likely doesn't know what to make of it." Not that Mikoto was technically related to Zidane. Truth be told, Garnet wasn't entirely sure how closely related Mikoto and Zidane were, or even how closely related any of the Terrans were. Perhaps their genetics varied by color? Were all the Terrans that'd been part of the "golden batch" like family? Or were Mikoto and Zidane significant because they'd been purposefully granted souls, as Kuja had been?

Perhaps she'd have to ask, though it seemed a strange sort of subject to bring up.

Continuing on down the corridor, they were soon passing by the fountain in the entrance hall before making their way to the elevator. The guards stepped aside as they approached, as they had clearance, and soon they were making their way up to the third floor.

"What is it?" Garnet asked as they lifted upward, able to see a distracted crease between Beatrix's brows.

Her question startled her general, who flicked her gaze to her queen only quickly before looking away again.

"Nothing," she replied stiffly. "Just have something on my mind."

Which wasn't an excuse Beatrix gave very often. Yet, Garnet decided not to push the subject. If she needed to know, her general would tell her, no matter how rare it was to see Beatrix focused on something aside from her duty.

The elevator came to a stop shortly after, opening up into a broad corridor that led them onward into the royal conference room. The doors were already open wide as they approached, Garnet able to see both the regent and the generous breakfast laid out for them on the long table.

"Ah, Garnet, prompt as always," Cid said as they entered, smiling wide beneath his broad mustache. He sat at the head of the table, the only other person in the room aside from his two newest arrivals. And with a simple flick of his wrist, the guards standing outside closed the doors behind them. "Did you sleep well?"

"Of course," Garnet assured, making her way up to the head of the table and taking a seat just to Cid's right. Beatrix, meanwhile, stepped back, standing guard out of the way and allowing her queen and the regent "privacy."

Truth be told, if they were back in Alexandria, Beatrix would have sat down to breakfast with Garnet. But even in Lindblum it was best to keep up appearances. And so Beatrix was there because it was her duty to guard her queen, not because she was thought of on a more familial basis. Best to keep those sorts of intimacies behind closed doors.

"Have whatever you like," Cid said, gesturing to the setup of food on their side of the table. "I made sure to have everything on the menu made up, just so there was no excuse others could use to interrupt us."

"Will Hilda and Eiko be joining us?" Garnet asked, taking only small portions of a few different things.

"No, it's just the two of us. There are matters of some delicacy that I think we must discuss."

"Then this is not just a simple breakfast between 'uncle' and 'niece,'" Garnet solidified.

"Unfortunately not," Cid replied. "Given how I've had to rearrange my schedule in lieu of my unexpected guests, I must abuse every moment I have to the fullest extent."

Placing her napkin across her lap, Garnet then turned her full attention to her uncle. "Then shall we get started?"

Cid swallowed a bite of egg and nodded. "We shall."

"Am I correct in assuming that part of our discussion is to be related to the Terrans, as you'd said in your letter?"

He nodded. "I'd wanted to share with you some of the blueprints they'd sent along in their letter, as a means enticing us into trade." Reaching for a few documents sitting on the other side of the table, he carefully handed them over, continuing to talk as Garnet started flipping through them. "Some of what they're presenting as being possible is quite extraordinary. This Letter Pot, for example," he pointed to one of the blueprints Garnet was currently observing. "So long as each party has one of these pots and the correct sort of parchment, letters can be sent instantly back and forth. It would completely change our ability to communicate as we know it, with time of course."

"It reminds me of the transportation pots the black mages used during the war," Garnet replied.

"Me as well. I suspect the technologies are similar. And while some of what is in these blueprints has been translated to Gaian, much of it remains in Terran. In order to utilize these technologies, we will, of course, have to work with the Terrans."

Garnet nodded, continuing to flip through the different blueprints.

"Nothing about airships though," Cid continued. "While I do find it invigorating, developing airships myself, I would be a very poor sport to refuse any sort of assistance simply because I have not yet had the chance to discover everything for myself."

"But you just said there was nothing here of airships."

"Well, there is still much negotiating to be done. And seeing as they are not asking for any small number of trade goods in return, I think there is plenty room yet to try and get a better deal."

Setting the blueprints aside, Garnet returned her attention to her uncle. "What are they asking for?"

"In comparison to what they're offering, things of a much simpler nature. Weapons, armor, steel. Food. Some textiles. Necessities, really."

Garnet frowned. "Perhaps they are not wholly able to support their population on whatever land they've taken for their own."

"Given how small their numbers are, I find that very hard to believe."

"Well, as it would turn out, our understanding of that was incredibly flawed."

Cid stared at her curiously.

"While I was speaking with their commander last night, it was revealed that their population is not merely a couple hundred, but well over a million."

"Over a million?!" Cid's eyes bugged. "How is that possible?"

"From what I understand, the Terrans that were living in the Black Mage Village left soon after arriving, returning to Shimmering Island where they spent much time rescuing other Terrans from their demolished home world. I've also gathered that that's why their appearance is so varied—those we encountered in Bran Bal were but a fraction of the entire population."

This news left Cid in thoughtful silence, his mustache twitching some as he tapped his fingers atop the table.

"This changes thing considerably," he eventually said.

"How so?"

"It means that they are seemingly quite right in referring to themselves as a kingdom. They are not a small population upon which we should take pity, but a large force we would do well not to take lightly."

"You think they pose a threat to us?"

"I don't know. Was that not their original purpose? To purge us all and take over our planet?"

Garnet frowned. "That was what their maker intended for them, but given how the logistics of that have changed, I would assume that doing so would do them more harm than good."

"Does that matter to something that was created to be destruction incarnate?"

Garnet frowned. "That's not what they are, Uncle. Kuja, Mikoto, and even Zidane were given souls so they might wreak havoc on our world, yes, but the others were merely vessels with no wills of their own. And while their ability to think for themselves has clearly changed, I would not assume our destruction is what they've come to desire. The black mages do not seek to destroy us, though that was also why they were made. I should think the Terrans would be no different." At the very least, she would not assume anything until it was proven otherwise.

"Perhaps," Cid agreed, though he was visibly uneasy. "You'll have to forgive me if I seem overly cautious or paranoid. I have seen quite a few wars and it is unnerving, learning that there is yet another kingdom with strength equal to our own. While ties between the mist kingdoms are seemingly calm for the moment, I know how quickly the tide can turn."

His words were dark, Garnet supposing she couldn't fault him for thinking such things. Her mother had been the one to ruin a peace that itself had been young and strained. True, Alexandria and Lindblum were once again close allies despite all that had happened, but Burmecia and Clerya were still quite antagonistic at times in relation to what was done to their kingdoms by Alexandria. Which Garnet supposed she couldn't fault them for, despite the fact that her own kingdom had suffered just as greatly as theirs.

"If what you say of their population is true, then their proposed trade numbers make more sense," he continued. "It also goes to show that they are not entirely destitute, as the numbers they are asking for could not possibly make much difference in a population so high."

"Perhaps they have but a gap to fill in their resources."

"Or, given that they are not merely asking for steel, but pre-made weapons and armor, they are in need of certain trade goods in a more immediate sense."

A point Garnet would not have thought of. "You think they're dealing with some sort of conflict?"

"Perhaps, though I cannot fathom what it would be. You yourself have been all over the world—is there anything you encountered that could truly threaten a population so large?"

"No, there's nothing that comes to mind."

"A curious thing indeed." Cid hummed thoughtfully. "Perhaps my most recent discovery is all the more fortuitous, then. Additional bargaining chips may be necessary."

"Recent discovery?"

Expression brightening considerably, Cid grinned before reaching into his jacket and removing a small vile. It was filled to the top with some kind of blue liquid. And as Garnet took it in her own hands, she was certain it was pulsating with energy.

"What is this?"

Leaning forward, Cid linked his fingers together atop the table intently. "I'm not entirely sure what it is, but it's been in the works these last seven years." Since the end of the war. "I've long been inspired by the back mages, how they are able to use the mist as a life source. A power source, so to speak. But mist itself is a byproduct, and one we no longer have in high supply."

Reaching out, Cid took the small vile back, looking at it critically as he did.

"So then I got to thinking: If the mist is powerful enough to create life, so to speak, then how powerful must the actual source be?"

It was a question that caused Garnet some unease, but she listened nonetheless.

"So I sent my engineers to the caverns beneath the North Mountains, deep underground, to investigate. And while it took much excavation, we did eventually find something. As it would turn out, there are places in the deep parts of the world very near the source of mist. Caverns filled entirely with crystal. But the crystal itself is seemingly powerless. Too condensed, perhaps, to be useful. However, beneath the crystal, if we dig deep enough, we can penetrate the actual source."

"The flow of souls…" Garnet murmured.

"Well, perhaps." Cid shrugged. "We've begun calling it liquid mist, in any case. When harnessed by human hands, it's lethal—as we had the unfortunate privilege of finding out. And if utilized with mist technologies, it's too overpowering. But we have been developing new machines that could potentially withstand it. Just last month, we had a break through."

Reaching across the table, he retrieved a small globe that Garnet had previously thought nothing about. On one side of it was a small metal connector of some kind, which Cid attached to the metal cap of the vile. He then twisted them together, the globe suddenly beginning to glow.

"I've been calling it a 'light bulb,'" Cid started, sounding rather excited. "Imagine the impact such a small contraption could have on the average person's life. No longer will people be limited to the vague glow of candles and oil lamps. These could be installed all over the house, able to light homes day and night. Think of the time made available, the production capacities. Just this small invention and everything could change."

A speech that left Garnet not quite knowing what to say.

"I've already been using a few of these 'light bulbs' in my rooms," he continued, un-twisting the vile and dimming the globe. "I can stay up all night working and not be the least bit concerned for the state of my eyes. Everything is ignited as though it were daytime. It's such a seemingly small thing, but the power it possesses is enormous. And I don't mean only in the figurative sense." Once again holding up the vile, he stared at it in much the same way Garnet had previously seen him staring at a successfully improved airship engine. "While we haven't fully figured out how to utilize it yet, I'm certain just one of these viles is enough to power an entire airship. We're working on test models now, but I have confidence that soon we'll be seeing results."

And while Garnet was sensing quite a few uncertainties within herself at the idea of what her uncle was doing, she didn't yet have a strong enough understanding to be able to explain those uncertainties. But even so, there was still plenty she needed to know.

"How is this going to help with negotiations with the Terrans?" she asked.

Sitting back, Cid tucked the vile back inside his coat pocket. "Because we have found that even though the Terrans are far more technologically advanced than us, none of what they've presented utilizes this sort of power. I feel that, if we were all participating in a race to the industrial finish line, I have found the key that will allow us to vault to the end, despite the Terrans seemingly being so far ahead. And in this way, what they seek to offer in trade holds far less value."

Which would put the bargaining chips in his favor, so to speak.

"Are you sure about this?" Garnet found herself asking.

"While I would have preferred more time to investigate the uses for this sort of technology, I will use it as a means of negotiating if need be. Then again," he offered Garnet an encouraging smile, "it may not even come to that."

Nodding, Garnet supposed she could do nothing but agree for the time being. Even as restlessness continued to churn in her stomach.

"All will be well," Cid assured. "All will be well."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All will be well, hm? Cid? Sure thing, President Shinra. I think we all know this is bound to end badly.
> 
> So Zidane knows the truth now, eh? But he's also clearly preoccupied with other things to. Wonder what he'll do, hu hu hu. This is Zidane we're talking about here.
> 
> And YES! Zidane is TALL! In comparison to Garnet and other characters, Kuja was also very, very tall and I have long had a headcanon that Zidane would have developed similarly, via Garland's more "superior" vision (albeit, what defines superiority is up for debate). You will have to pry this headcanon from my cold, dead hands, OKAY?!
> 
> Anyway, Tantalus messed up, Garnet is sad, Cid is up to no good, and Avon is still adorable.
> 
> Thank you guys so much for the support you've given this story so far! And PLEASE continue to LEAVE REVIEWS-they help me stayed inspired even though I know no on is really reading this story (aside from you blessed, wonderful few :D).


	4. Chapter 4

While the day had been long, the many meetings hadn't been overly weighty with in-depth trade discussions. There was much information to be provided, many introductions to be made between peoples of every nation, and Alexandria's unexpected involvement to also be taken into consideration. Despite the many hours spent in Cid's largest conference room, very little was actually accomplished. Which was likely for the best given that there'd be a recess the following day for the Festival of the Masks.

Garnet suspected that after the festivities was when things would really start to get interesting. But until then, everyone was on seemingly good terms, the Terrans as a whole just as cordial as everyone else, if not a fair bit more reserved.

What seemed to be of most interest to those just meeting the Terrans was their appearance, as that was what Garnet's own nobles spoke most of when each kingdom had retreated for private lunches. Much talk was of their height and thin figures, if their flawless complexions and otherworldly beauty. But then others would point out that they were altogether too feminine for some tastes. Many had even assumed they were all female, which had been of some confusion when varying pronouns had been used among them. There was something about the ratio of their hips—which was, Garnet could admit, more on the feminine side—and the lack of facial hair that had confused many.

They were, in many ways, what some might consider superficially superior to humans. Which could have been Garland's intent, despite the fact that such a measurement was inherently flawed.

There had also been whispered talk of the traits Prince Avon shared with them, which Garnet had chosen to generally ignore for the time being.

The day had passed gradually, until finally it was time to go to dinner. Hilda had arranged for it to be a grand welcoming dinner for all guests in the castle, and so the largest ballroom had been set up to accommodate everyone, including the soldiers from both Terra and Alexandria. It was to be a time for mingling and making connections. For all to "get to know one another," so to speak. It was something Garnet could give or take, but that she knew would offer Avon hours of entertainment.

"You must stay here and finish your dinner before you can do any sort of gallivanting about," Steiner was saying quite strictly, much to Avon's exasperated disappointment. Though he didn't want to, Avon did take his seat beside Garnet, before he placed his chin on the table and glared at the opposing chairs.

Steiner sat down on his other side, no doubt at-the-ready should he need to keep the young boy in line.

"How were your lessons?" Garnet asked, as this was the first she'd seen of her son all day. Having him there was of far greater interest to her than any of the nobles walking and chatting about, making it easy to focus even as everyone was attempting to find seats and get settled.

"Boring," he said flatly.

"Even the lessons with Mr. 747?"

"Yeah." Avon released a very long sigh. "He won't let me do any magic yet. I hate it. It's stupid."

"Young Sir," Steiner scolded, only for Avon to turn his head purposefully away from the knight.

"All good things take time," Garnet replied. "Mr. 747 will no doubt let you start casting magic once you're ready. Until then, you have to adhere to the rules and not attempt it—you could hurt yourself if you do."

"I know…"

It was a fact he'd learned the hard way shortly after they'd discovered his predisposition for black magic. Though it had healed, Garnet knew he'd always have a vague scar on his shoulder where he'd been severely burned after a failed fire spell. It'd been one of the scariest moments in Garnet's life, and she'd witnessed plenty of terrifying things.

"Now that's quite enough sulking," Steiner decided a second later, reaching out to Avon as he did. "Sit up straight. You're a prince, best to start acting like one."

Flopping a bit like a worm, Avon half-heartedly did as Steiner said, any inclination he had to keep it up fading with each second.

Watching from Garnet's other side, Beatrix released a light sigh.

"He really has taken to Avon, hasn't he?" she said quietly, drawing Garnet's attention her way. It was an odd thing to say, really, because Steiner's position as Avon's personal guard had long been established.

"I suppose," Garnet agreed.

"And yet he's so careful not to become what Avon might perceive as a father-figure," Beatrix continued. "Albeit, he is, but he talks of Avon's father often enough and with enough gusto that Avon could never forget that Steiner isn't, in fact, his father." Leaning back, Beatrix stared down at the table, once again seeming distracted. "I wonder how he'd raise his own children…"

It was a quiet comment that Garnet wanted to question, but before she could, they were interrupted.

"Good evening." It was Commander Akitis, who bowed her head as she approached their table. "Would it be acceptable for myself and some of my soldiers to join you?" After all, the point of such an informal dinner was to make new acquaintances.

Avon perked up immediately. "Yeah!"

"It's fine," Garnet assured.

Akitis nodded and gestured three of her soldiers over. They filled up the remaining chairs at their table, Akitis taking the last one, which was directly across from Garnet.

Her soldiers were quiet. Clad in their armor, they appeared somewhat shy and uneasy, glancing around the ballroom as though they didn't quite know what to make of the fact that they were sitting amongst sovereigns and nobles. Or perhaps it was more so the presence of Gaians that unnerved them.

"Wow!" Avon was standing on his chair in a flash, hands flat atop the table as he leaned forward. "You have pink hair!" The soldier in question blinked at him somewhat helplessly, before turning their attention to Akitis.

"Young Sir, sit down properly," Steiner said sternly. It took a few seconds before Avon gave in and sat back in his seat again.

"And you have black hair," Akitis said in response, smiling some as she looked at Avon. "None of us have hair that color."

"It's cuz my mom has black hair," Avon replied simply, pointing up at Garnet as he did. "I have a horn too."

"I see that. Are you a summoner?"

"I have eidolons inside me, but I can't summon them yet," he replied. "Did you know, my dad had gold hair!"

"Did he?" Akitis asked. "There are quite a few Terrans with that color hair."

"Yeah, but he's dead now." He said it so casually, Garnet having to close her eyes and take a deep breath in order to hide any pained reaction. "But Steiner said that the lady with gold hair that came with you is my dad's sister. But she seems mean so I don't want to talk to her."

Beside Akitis, two of her soldiers turned to one another and started whispering, while the other was looking up at Akitis in what appeared to be alarm. All of which Garnet noticed and that twisted her insides in much the same way she'd been feeling the night prior.

"Chancellor Mikoto isn't mean, she's just very serious," Akitis replied, not seeming nearly as fazed by Avon's comments as her soldiers. "She takes her job and responsibilities very seriously."

"What's her job?" Avon asked.

"Well, she's second to the king," Akitis explained. "She takes care of everything that he doesn't have time to, or can't because of… lots of other reasons."

"What's _your_ job?"

Akitis laughed. "I'm in charge of all our soldiers." She nodded to Beatrix. "Much like your general."

"Beatrix's job is also to be friends with my mom," Avon stated, as if that were actually in her job description. It was a declaration that had both Beatrix and Garnet chuckling to themselves.

"And a very important job that no doubt is," Akitis replied, appearing just as humored as the rest of them. "I also fancy myself very good friends with our king."

"As do many others." Looking up, the entire table turned their attention to an approaching Terran. They sounded male, but their appearance was overtly feminine. With long, light orange hair and an outfit adorned with far more glittering details than most, they stood out even amongst the nobles. Brightly-colored makeup accented their slim, pretty face, as well as the knowing smirk pulling at their lips.

"Miru," Akitis greeted, her smile turning somewhat tight. "What brings you all the way to our table?"

"I couldn't resist meeting the Queen of Alexandria," they replied, tapping their long, purple nails on the back of one of the soldier's chairs. "After all, she's the talk of the town these last few days." Miru turned to Garnet then, yet smiling, but it appeared altogether forced.

"Excuse me?" Garnet asked.

"That is to say, you are no more talked of amongst us than anyone else of equal significance," Akitis replied, her smile finally falling away. There was obviously tension between the two Terrans, the three soldiers at the table doing their best to slump away from the exchange.

Miru hummed. "Hardly."

"Chancellor Mikoto warned everyone, Miru, unless you've already forgotten," Akitis said then, her tone blatantly threatening.

Which seemed to get some kind of message across, though pertaining to what, none of the Gaians at the table could fathom.

Avon was looking at the new arrival thoughtfully. "Are you a boy or a girl?" he asked suddenly.

Miru snapped their attention to the young prince, appearing initially hostile, before a "charming" smile returned to their face.

"I'm neither male nor female," they replied. "While many of us were designed with gender-marking features—so as to provide variety in our genetics—many of us retain the reproductive capabilities and tells of both men and women."

A statement that was somewhat surprising to Garnet and the rest of her party. Not because such a thing didn't exist otherwise—the Qu race was much the same—but because it was a detail of their creation Garnet had not been previously privy to.

Avon, however, didn't understand. "How can you be a boy and a girl at the same time?"

Steiner cast the prince a stern eye. "Young Sir."

"How is anything possible?" Miru replied nonetheless. "Perhaps what I am may seem unnatural to your people, but there are many who would say the same about you, half-breed."

Garnet and Beatrix gaped, flashing swiftly with outrage, while both Steiner and Akitis were on their feet in seconds.

"You need to go," Akitis said darkly, taking over before Steiner had the chance to intervene. And while the scene was still relatively quiet, those sitting at nearby tables were turning to see what was the matter.

Miru, meanwhile, seemed to rise to Akitis's own aggressive posture. "Your interest in that _thing_ will ultimately do you more harm than good," they said simply.

"The status of my priorities are aligned with those of our king, and therefore none of your concern—though try as you might to change that." A statement that had Miru bristling. "Now return to wherever it is you came from, before I make you."

The two stared at one another for some seconds longer, before Miru finally gave in and whipped around. Heading swiftly across the ballroom, they eventually joined up at a table strictly full up of other Terrans.

"Mom?" Avon had turned to Garnet, her attention snapping quickly down to him. "What's a half-breed?"

A question she wasn't sure how to answer, as it was a concept she had not been previously faced with. But it was clear from Miru's tone that it'd been wholly intended as an insult.

"It's nothing that you need worry about, little prince," Akitis cut in. "It is a false label that means absolutely nothing." She looked to Garnet then, bowing her head some as she did. "I offer my sincerest apologies for Miru's statement. I will report the matter to the chancellor and Miru will be appropriately dealt with. Chancellor Mikoto will not take kindly to such behavior, nor such… word-choice."

Though she was not pleased, Garnet supposed she'd trust Akitis for the time being. "See that she does," she replied, her tone chilly and relatively defensive.

"Why would such a word have been used in the first place?" Steiner asked then, appearing just as angry as Garnet felt.

Akitis released a low sigh. "There are certain sects of Terrans who not only believe that we should remain isolated from the rest of Gaia, but who also view our race as inherently pure due to the circumstances of our creation. They are also the types who would seek to keep it that way, despite the fact that we are clearly capable of producing children with other Gaian races."

"They are very brash to approach the prince of Alexandria with such hostility," Beatrix said, her tone clearly threatening.

"Unfortunately, the reality of your son has set off many of their conservative sentiments," Akitis admitted. "The chancellor has already made it clear to everyone in our party that any negative behavior targeted at your son would be swiftly punished. As I said, she will not take kindly to what just happened."

Seemingly placated, though remaining uneasy, Steiner finally returned to his seat, which gave Akitis the go-ahead to do the same.

"Are such sentiments common amongst your people?" Garnet asked.

"No," was Akitis's swift reply. "Our king is ardently disapproving of any sort of superior mindset toward other races, as is the chancellor despite any of her other conservative views. And most have taken to their example. But with the development of the self comes independent thought, and so it is impossible for all ideas to be policed. Nor do I think our king would approve of trying to do so, thought he has been very transparent in what he believes when it comes to matters such as these."

"I suppose what I'm really asking is this—" Garnet continued, "—is my son in danger here, during the duration of your stay?"

"Absolutely not," Akitis replied. "While characters like Miru may be brazen enough to say something, none would dare lay a hand on your son. If they were to so much as try, the wrath our king would cast down upon them would likely be something they wouldn't come back from. A fact the chancellor has also made perfectly clear, though most were likely aware of such without the need of a warning."

"You paint your king in a much more abrasive light now than you did last night," Beatrix observed.

"While our king is a patient, forgiving, and kind ruler, I imagine his reaction to any harm coming to your son would ignite in him a very different reaction. That aside, if you are yet uneasy, I guarantee my own efforts in protecting your son while I am able to do so. I promise my sword and my life to you, in order to satisfy that oath. As does every one of my soldiers." A statement that had the three soldiers at their table straightening, as if to affirm this understanding.

Garnet, meanwhile, was taken considerably aback by such a declaration. Akitis was swearing to protect her son—the prince of a different kingdom—against anyone, including her own people. It was a very strange promise for the commander of a different land to make, and one that left Garnet somewhat speechless with shock.

"Steiner protects me," Avon added meekly then.

"As he should," Akitis replied, offering Avon a small, encouraging smile. "Someone as precious as you should always be protected."

Though he had slumped back in his seat—having been made just as uneasy by the conversation as Garnet—Avon did manage a shy smile of his own.

Yet, before any further discussion of the matter could be had, the castle staff came bustling through the doors. Dozens of servants came holding serving tray after serving tray, making their way around to each and every table as dinner was officially commenced. A small buffet of varying types of food was placed at the center of every table, so all present were able to select for themselves what they wanted. There was much chaos to be had as a result, the ballroom exploding with even more voices and footsteps as everything was set up and all in attendance began to dig in.

Garnet and Steiner were momentarily distracted with getting Avon his plate, though that didn't stop Garnet from noticing when Akitis rose quietly from her seat and headed swiftly across the room to where Mikoto was seated at Cid's table. The two stepped aside to speak in private, no doubt taking advantage of the volume and bedlam of the room.

Shortly after, they were both marching over to one of the far tables, Mikoto leading the charge as they approached the now infamous Miru. And while there was very little in the way of a scene, words must have been exchanged. A moment later, Miru was rising from their seat and being escorted from the ballroom by both Mikoto and Akitis.

No, it didn't solve whatever inherent thought process had inspired Miru in the first place, but it did put Garnet somewhat more at ease.

"Can Pickle have some?" Avon asked, drawing Garnet's focus back his way.

"Of course," she assured. The black moogle was hopping up onto Avon's chair a second later, no doubt appearing from wherever he'd been hiding under the table. He fit well-enough in Avon's lap, his fluffy pom-pom all that was visible above the tabletop. Seeing as Pickle wasn't big enough to reach the food himself, Avon was much distracted in feeding him, allowing Steiner and Garnet to focus some on their own meals.

Akitis returned some time later, as did Mikoto to her own table. Nothing was said of the incident, light conversation had by all relating to the Terran's stay thus far. A few of the soldiers even dared speak up, asking a few innocent—if not humorous—questions pertaining to Gaian culture and practices. Which, of course, gave Garnet and her party leeway to do much the same in return.

"If it isn't too much trouble, I would be curious to know more details pertaining to the founding of your kingdom," Garnet was saying, delicately spreading some jam over her bread as she did.

"It's no trouble at all," Akitis assured. "During the rescue of our people from the ruins of Terra, we also managed to salvage other technologies necessary for our survival. Airships were among them, though some repair work was required on quite a few. But once we were satisfied that all who could be rescued were, we headed southwest."

"To the Forgotten Continent," Garnet established.

Akitis nodded. "As you know, a few remnants of Terran architecture remain on your planet's surface as a result of Garland's previously failed attempt at fusion. The closest to us at that time was Ipsen's Castle, which is where we initially settled. We had very few resources and the castle was large enough to house a great many of us.

"It was a time of great uncertainty, as we were only just beginning to develop our sense of selves. Thankfully, we had wiser heads to lead us, and so what was originally a tentative settling ground gradually became our home."

"Then you stayed at Ipsen's Castle?" Garnet asked.

"We stayed in the area surrounding it. As the castle itself is situated in a deep depression, bordered on all sides, it seemed like a safe haven to many. The soil there is also rich and useful natural resources are found nearby. Given our propensity for hard work—especially in the beginning when many of us were still developing vessels—creating a home for ourselves was both logical and something we were all intent on working toward together. Six years later, Ipsen is our capital city. It is a lively metropolis not unlike many of your own cities."

"Is it truly relatable to a city?" Garnet asked.

"From the beginning, many Terrans were acutely interested in building things, both technologically and architecturally. Today, the advancement of such things is still a prime occupation and one that our king actively encourages as we continue to grow. With so many willing hands, the physical building of our home happened steadily. And while there's not nearly as many dedicated to such employments these days, we are still expanding. So yes, I would think that anyone who happened to find themselves in Ipsen would describe it as nothing less than a city."

"You mentioned that it's your capital city," Beatrix interjected. "Is that to imply you have other settlements on the continent?"

"There are a few smaller settlements—villages, perhaps—close-by to Ipsen. Some are situated in locations where we are retrieving resources, others on the plains so as to provide the populace with food. But the land in the middle of the forgotten continent is harsh and made up of many unforgiving cliffs. Yet, even so, there are some forested areas we've started to settle in which exist in that area, and we do have a military base camp as far south as Oeilvert."

"Oeilvert?" Garnet asked. "That's nearly the length of the entire continent."

"True, but like I said, much of the land in-between in uninhabitable."

Not only that, but there'd been no one to object to their expansion. The Forgotten Continent had been wholly uninhabited, at least as far as Garnet had been aware. The closest settlement was Daguerreo, and that was still located on an isolated island even further south. The Qus, of course, lived in varying locations across the continent as well—as they did all over the world—but they were hardly a population in need of large swaths of land.

"Does your king make his home in Ipsen's Castle?" Steiner asked.

"When he can afford to be in Ipsen, yes."

"I don't know how he could stand it," Steiner continued. "It's a confounding labyrinth of a place."

Akitis chuckled. "We've made some changes, if only to make it less treacherous to walk around in, but we adapted to its abnormalities quickly enough. In fact, some of our architects were so inspired by its layout that they have attempted to recreate its make-up in other structures."

"I'm assuming there must be some kind of magical enchantment necessary to accomplish such a thing," Garnet said.

"Well, yes. Namely, magic pertaining to gravity and space."

"Then there are black mages among your people?"

"Oh yes, a great many. Most if not all of us have some degree of black magic abilities. Though—as is the case with myself, for example—some of our talents are incredibly feeble at best. My skill is so poor that I am likely to do more damage with a butter knife than any kind of spell."

"Are their white mages among your people as well?" Garnet asked.

"A few. Garland only created two variations of Terrans with such talents—those being of the silver variety and then the green variety. How such things will develop in future generations, however, is hard to say."

"Then your people possess different skills depending on their 'variety?'"

"In a manner of speaking. Garland was always attempting to perfect his formula as far as our creation. And so different varieties possess different features. There are more females among the blue variety, for example, and more males among the pink. We were two of his first attempts at vessels, in fact. The purple variety have weaker magic abilities, generally, because they were Garland's first test subjects as far as developing magical abilities. The green variety are the most gifted with white magic, while the silver variety generally excel at both white and black magic. The gold variety have the most skill with black magic by a large margin—almost all of them are adept black mages. Which shouldn't be so surprising given that they were Garland's most recently realized vessels. And so on and so forth."

"If you were among Garland's first creations, then you must be…" Garnet didn't want to say it out loud, how old Akitis must be.

Yet the commander didn't appear offended by her implication. "It really depends on how you define age. As a vessel, I spent three-thousand years doing what amounted to nothing, creating very few significant memories or connections. While I am aware of that part of my existence, it fades from my memory every day. Overtaken, perhaps, by my new life and purpose."

"You speak of it so lightly," Garnet reasoned, hoping—again—that nothing she said came across as offensive. "When the black mages discovered the truth of how they were created and what for, many of them were… distraught. Are there no such sentiments among your people?"

"How or why we were created was never hidden from us, unlike what transpired with the black mages. While there are some who question and struggle with who we are, a majority of us have known no different than to be at ease with it. Our king encourages us not to focus on why we were created, but to, instead, live our lives for ourselves. In that respect, how we came to be matters very little."

"Your king has had… a very great impact on your entire people as a whole, hasn't he?"

"Oh, yes," Akitis readily agreed. "We had very few examples to look to as far as learning how to live. Much of how we developed was wholly dependent upon those who had developed ahead of us. And as more and more of us continued to grow, we were able to set more and more examples for those around us. But much of our survival and… who we have become is due solely to our king. I would be hesitant to imagine the path we might have found ourselves on were it not for his influence.

"I see…"

It was abundantly clear by that point that the Terran king was not only respected by his people, but absolutely beloved. Or so Akitis would lead them to believe. But that she referred to him with such a common sense type of tone would imply that her views were shared by many others—after all, no one was objecting to her words. The Terran king felt less like a monarch and more like some kind of deity—something that his people worshipped as well as followed.

"I would be curious to learn how your society functions on a social level," Beatrix started. "Clearly you have an active military, but what significance are the other Terrans that accompanied you here? If you have a king, then there must be some kind of social hierarchy, yes?"

"We have slowly begun to develop a sort of social hierarchy, though I would not think it the same to the systems implemented on the Mist Continent. We do not have noble bloodlines or even enough superficial wealth to place certain Terrans higher than others. There was an initial movement during the beginning of our development that sought to divide us based on our varieties—that those thought to be made more 'perfect' by Garland's measurements would be superior to the others. And as we knew no better in those days, many of us thought that such a thing sounded logical. But as soon as our king was made aware of the movement, he called for its end. And as we had so little in the way of our own opinions at that point, it was easy enough for him to undo any damage that had already been done.

"In his words, we will not define ourselves based on the expectations of another, but by the expectations we have of ourselves. No Terran is to be superior to any other Terran, as all of us have something valuable to offer. No matter our variety or purpose, we are all useful and necessary. It was a point that our king thought of the utmost importance to hammer home, as many of us—aside from whatever variety we happen to be—have been left severely injured or disabled as a result of Terra's destruction. But instead of leaving behind those who had trouble, our king encouraged us to take care of one another. To make up the difference for those who could not, because we all have something valuable to offer the world in the end.

"As a result, much of our social hierarchy is founded on what we do and not who we are. Many Terrans went on to create guilds, where those who share interests similar to their own may join, so as to broaden their knowledge. Much of our city is divided up into different sects where these guilds operate—the Black Magic Guild, the Architectural Guild, the Historical Guild, and so on. Those joining us here in Lindblum are either part of the Trade Guild or the Civil Guild. Those of the Trade Guild I think are here for very obvious reasons, while those among the Civil Guild serve the king and Chancellor Mikoto in a more immediate sense. In the end, they are all here to work together to hopefully further our own interests and those of Gaia's other kingdoms."

"Then is your whole economy based on the equal trade of goods and services?" Garnet asked, finding herself quite interested now, if only because the Terrans' social approach differed so greatly from anything she was familiar with.

"No, we do have currency. Oftentimes, the person able to provide a good or service is not interested in being paid in whatever good or service the one requiring their skill has to offer. In this case, gil is used, as our king thought it likely we would be indulging in trade with Gaians at some point and so kept our currency somewhat equitable to yours. As equitable as possible while maintaining no poverty, in any case."

Garnet couldn't hide her surprise. "No poverty?"

Akitis laughed. "Our king is very passionate about most things and beyond so about a few others. That his people should not experience homelessness or poverty is one of those few things, especially given the destitution we all had to live through initially. As a means of doing away with such issues, the Architectural Guild—and others guilds participating in movements to help those in need—are given a coffer bonus at the end of each month, which supports endeavors to create housing for those who cannot or, I suppose in some cases, have _decided_ not to contribute to society in any lucrative form. Many of our most disabled citizens require such things, as do they medical care and quality of life support.

"Thankfully, a majority of our people are more than willing to join an appropriate guild and contribute, so there is no great strain in providing such things. But though our society is functioning quite well at the moment, our king is aware that such things could change at any time, and so has some of these guilds putting in work where there is, perhaps, no demand."

"A security measure," Garnet established.

"So to speak."

"And how is this sort of system supported?" Garnet had all but forgotten her food, as she'd become so intent on investigating.

"Initially, it was strictly an exchange in goods and services, but as we developed further, the Monetary Guild—alongside the king—slowly began to introduce gil as our currency. At this point, gil is used daily by all citizens, and it is this established flow that has grown our economy. All funds that are paid are set aside in a coffer attributed to each registered guild. At the end of the month, those funds are sent to the Monetary Guild, where it's counted and recorded before being redistributed to the guilds they came from. But a cut is taken from each guild based on the amount brought in, and that cut goes to the Royal Coffers, which is where extra funds for those in need are kept, or from which wages are distributed to those whose services cannot be charged appropriately from within the economy are kept. My position, for example, is considered a public service and so my wage is paid from the Royal Coffer."

"So it's a tax," Garnet established.

"In a way. But it's very personalized based on the guild and their increasing wealth. The percentages are somewhat based on how much is brought in, but also on the gil increase. The wealthiest guild, for example, will have a higher percentage cut from their earnings than those who make less."

"I'm assuming then that when funds are redistributed to the guilds, the heads of those guilds distribute it to the members of the guild."

"That is correct."

"Then do all your citizens make a universal wage?"

"No. Wages are based on merit and contribution to each respective guild. The hierarchy of that is determined by the Guild Masters, but it is also overseen by the Civil Guild. Those working for more lucrative guilds will come away with a larger wage, but they also owe more to the Royal Coffers as a result."

"Then some of your people are wealthier than others."

"Yes. But even those who are part of small guilds or, in some cases, unable to be part of any, are bolstered up by those required to make more contributions to the Royal Coffers. All that aside, our society has yet to develop much value in being overly wealthy. And I think that, if the king can manage it, he would prefer to keep it that way. That isn't to say that those who have earned more do not seek to spend that wealth or expand their own assets, but only that the more money a citizen or guild makes, the more compounded their cut."

"So the richest person in your society is also paying considerably more to the royal coffers. Compounded, even, as you said. Meaning that there isn't actually a universal percentage. That someone who is wealthy may actually be paying, say, a fifty percent cut while someone else may only be paying a three percent cut, when all is over and done with."

"By design, yes."

"If you tried to tax nobles in that fashion in Alexandria, the consequences would be dire," Beatrix muttered, Garnet nodding along in agreement.

"It was entertained among some groups that such a system might eventually instill ill-will in citizens," Akitis went on, "but for the time being, the wage gapes between some citizens—while drastic—have not reached a point of being dangerously, how shall we say, overzealous. The king has never been shy in explaining that our entire economy is based around avoiding extraneous wealth and the pitfalls that come along with it. There is no point, after all, in only a few hoarding vast amounts of wealth while others have none. If that extraneous wealth is going to the Royal Coffers, then it will certainly be more beneficial to everyone.

"But that isn't to say our system is faultless. We encounter problems every day that must be remedied, as we're only just beginning to develop as a kingdom and an economy."

"Your king was the one who designed this system?" Garnet asked.

"Not on his own, but as I said before, he's prone to throwing out ideas that we must all then come together to solve. He wanted to make us into a society without poverty or homelessness and without a wastefully wealthy upper class. Thus, a system was devised that, for the time being, seems to be working."

"It sounds as though your king has a personal grudge against the wealthy," Beatrix said, though her comment was clearly meant in jest.

"That is not a wholly unfounded understanding," Akitis verified. "Though I do think that, at the end of the day, he wishes only to get us going on the right track for the generations to come."

"You're quite well-versed in all of this despite it not being part of your job," Garnet observed.

"Well, as a close friend to the king, I am oftentimes his springboard when he's trying to gather an understanding of, well, anything. He does much better if he's able to talk things through aloud, even if no one has anything to say in response."

"Very different from you, your highness," Steiner observed.

"I am more the type to sit and silently stew, I suppose," Garnet agreed.

From between them, Avon released a dramatic sigh. Which had everyone looking his way.

"Are you guys gonna keep talking about boring stuff _forever_?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Garnet feigned. "What would you prefer we talk about?"

"Hmmm." Avon tapped his chin thoughtfully. "How about…"

Before he could answer, the entire table was struck silent as their chairs began to shake. Their empty plates and glasses trembled, the chandeliers above their heads jingling.

The entire castle had started to shiver.

"What is this?" Garnet found herself asking. Looking around frantically beside her, Avon soon gave into terror and, with a whine, crawled out of his chair and into Garnet's lap.

"And earthquake?" Beatrix asked.

All the while, the rest of the ballroom was falling silent, everyone tense and surprised as dozens of people tried to come to terms with what could possibly be happening.

On the far side of the room, a pitcher of wine fell from a table and shattered atop the floor. A few people gasped, the atmosphere of the room quickly beginning to climb into a panic.

"Everyone, stay calm!" Cid announced a second later, standing as he did. But frantic murmurings were already echoing back and forth, a few people starting to get up out of their seats.

More dishes started falling to the floor, the room soon overtaken by a cacophony of shattering glass and ceramic.

Wrapping her arms tightly around Avon, Garnet held him close as the voices surrounding her began to grow in volume. Cid attempted to keep everyone and everything under control, but there was only so much he could do when terror took over rational minds.

"I think we should get out of here," Beatrix started, reaching out to lay an encouraging hand on Garnet's shoulder as both she and Steiner got to their feet.

"I agree—that is likely for the best," Akitis added, she and her soldiers standing as well.

The quaking, meanwhile, seemed to be growing in severity, the very tables and chairs beginning to clatter atop the tile floors.

"M—Mom," Avon cried, his face buried in Garnet's chest.

"It's okay," she assured, gathering Avon more fully into her arms as she stood.

"Can you hear it?" he asked a second later, his question pulling Garnet's attention his way. "Can you hear that voice?"

"What voice?" Garnet asked quickly, even as Beatrix was attempting to persuade her to head for the door. But everyone else in the ballroom was headed that way as well, so Garnet saw little point in trying to make an escape there.

"It's a scary voice," Avon replied, whimpering some as he did. "I can hear it in my head."

"A voice in your head?" she asked. Yet, before she could even consider questioning him further, the entire room—the entire castle, city included—was violently jolted. It felt like a lurch, the motion strong enough that it knocked Garnet—and everyone around her—completely off their feet.

Cradling Avon, Garnet did all she could to protect him as she was tossed onto her back. Steiner stumbled and fell beside her, while Beatrix attempted to stay standing, but ultimately ended up on her knees.

Above their heads, the chandeliers were tossing violently. Fearing the worst, Garnet closed her eyes and curled herself as protectively around Avon as she could, beginning to focus in on the pulse of the eidolons inside her. She had few that could potentially save them if the entire castle collapsed, and so she singled out the only one large enough to stand a chance.

Bahamut's power began to grow inside her, another flash of power surging into the room nearby.

But before Garnet could finish the mental ritual that would call Bahamut to her side, the shaking suddenly…

Stopped.

As simply as that, the land was still once again.

Above their heads, the chandeliers were clinking as they swung from their chains, while the echoes of broken glass soon silenced. Those who had been screaming in panic began to recover into relieved sighs, some even going so far as to break out sobbing.

Still holding Avon tight to her body, Garnet slowly sat up. She could feel Avon trembling against her, no doubt crying, and so she attempted to console him as best she could while also getting a look around the room.

The flash she'd seen before had been Madeen. The eidolon had burst forth and was now hovering protectively over Eiko, Cid, and Hilda. A few of the Alexandrian knights remained behind, near to Garnet, but most of the nobles from both Gaian kingdoms had attempted to flee.

The Terrans had stayed behind as well, all of them appearing startled, but not nearly as upset. Mikoto was standing tall, looking more alarmed than afraid.

"Does such quaking happen often?" Akitis asked, helping Steiner to his feet even as he was floundering to stand. Beatrix assisted Garnet in standing, all while she kept the crying Avon held tight.

"No," Garnet replied honestly, her heart still thudding fast with adrenaline.

Her response had Akitis pursing her lips, her expression turning dark as she finally got Steiner to his feet. She then headed off toward Chancellor Mikoto, as did all the Terran soldiers in the room.

"Is everyone alright?" It was Cid who was asking. He was making his way over to them, as were Hilda and Eiko, while Madeen suddenly vanished in a flash of pink. "You? The prince?" He was addressing Garnet directly.

"Yes, we're alright," she verified quickly.

"Is there any history of that sort of quaking happening in this area?" Mikoto sounded very stern and demanding as she approached them lastly, her shrewd expression already recovered from the shock.

"N—No, none," Hilda replied, still shaken as she reached out and pulled Eiko into her arms.

"It was probably just an earthquake," Cid assured, clearly attempting to comfort his wife. "While they're rare, a few incidents have been recorded by past generations."

"The Alexandrian prince claimed to have heard a voice," Akitis cut in then. She was clearly speaking to Mikoto, the two sharing in eye contact for but a moment before the chancellor was turning on Eiko.

"Did _you_ hear any voices?" she asked plainly.

"No, nothing," Eiko replied. She sounded shocked, but more put together than her mother.

"Do you know something about this?" Cid asked, ever quick to catch on.

Mikoto released a light huff. "As of this moment, I know nothing more than you." She turned to Garnet then. "When the prince has calmed down, ask him what the voice was saying. I'd be very interested to know."

Seemingly deciding that was explanation enough, Mikoto turned on her heel and headed for the door. The other Terrans followed, the group pushing their way through the yet recovering crowd before exiting the ballroom entirely.

Scoffing, Cid raised his arms in an irritated, rather defeated fashion, while Garnet leaned her chin on the top of Avon's head and held him all the tighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of world building this chapter, which some of you will love and some of you will find tedious. BUT NOT TO WORRY! The next chapter is VERY good and is one that I know you guy's have been waiting for from the beginning ;D
> 
> Again, please leave reviews, guys. This story hardly gets any and the support goes a long way :)


	5. Chapter 5

"I don't know what it was saying," Avon replied, still appearing somewhat scared as he lay in bed. "I couldn't understand."

"Why couldn't you understand?" Garnet asked delicately, her fingers sifting through his hair. She sat beside him on his bed, still clad in her day clothes despite the fact that it was late and he was more than ready for bed.

"It was saying things I didn't know," he explained, his bottom lip and chin trembling. "But it sounded really s—scary."

"I know," Garnet comforted. "But whatever it was, it's gone now, right?"

He nodded.

"And I'm right here with you." Reaching out, she laid her free hand over his own. "I'll never let anything happen to you."

He nodded again, even as a few tears trickled down his cheeks.

"It—It was like when Aunt Freya a—and Uncle Fratley visit, and they start saying things that nobody u—u—understands."

Moving her hand to his face, Garnet wiped away his tears. "You mean, like another language?"

"Y—Yeah…"

A disconcerting revelation. The fact that her son was hearing voices in his head wasn't wholly unfounded, given that he did have eidolon's residing within him. But eidolons learned to communicate with their hosts by reflecting their own communicative skills. If any of his own eidolons had been trying to communicate with him, they should have been speaking a language he could understand. If he was hearing voices that were not only threatening, but speaking in a different tongue, then that was definitely reason to be alarmed.

Not that Garnet voiced as much. Instead, she stayed at her son's side until he fell asleep, which took him considerable time given how upset he was. But the activity of the day did inevitably take its toll, Garnet remaining some moments after he'd drifted off, if only for her own state of mind.

Yet she knew others were waiting on her.

Leaving Avon in Steiner's care, who was still too wound with nerves to even try to sleep, Garnet allowed her knight to watch over him while she retreated quietly down the stairs. Beatrix awaited her on the bottom level of the guest room, the two meeting up before continuing on out into the hall. The stairs directly in front of their room led down into a small lobby, where Chancellor Mikoto and Commander Akitis were waiting.

"It took Avon some time to fall sleep," Garnet said as they met the two other women at the bottom of the staircase.

"After what happened earlier, I'm sure he was still quite upset," Akitis replied, their voices low so as not to draw too much attention.

No, they weren't doing anything underhanded, strictly speaking, but Garnet knew Cid would disapprove of her speaking with the Terran leaders in his castle without him being aware. And more than likely, word would get out that she had. But for the time being, she'd see what it was they wanted to speak to her about and what details she could gather from them otherwise. If any of it was pertinent to Cid and his kingdom, she'd certainly let him know.

"Did you find out what the voice was saying to him?" Mikoto asked, tone ever flat and her delivery straight to the point.

"I asked him, but he couldn't understand it," Garnet replied. "He seemed to think this voice was speaking a different language. And he was entirely convinced it was dangerous. Threatening, perhaps."

An explanation that elicited little from Mikoto aside from a thoughtful turn of her head.

"Do you know something about all this?" Garnet said, less asking a question so much as demanding an answer—albeit in a civil tone.

"Such quaking is not unheard of on the Forgotten Continent," Akitis replied. Garnet waited a moment for her to continue, but she failed to do so.

"You know the cause of it, then," Garnet pushed.

"The cause of such phenomenon on the Forgotten Continent shouldn't be possible here," Mikoto replied. "I'll send a letter tonight to Ipsen, inquiring into the matter. But the regent could have been entirely correct in attributing the incident to an earthquake."

"Aside from the voice in my son's head," Garnet pointed out, "which you know something about, yet are refusing to elaborate."

The slightest of frowns creased Mikoto's lips. "It would serve no purpose to relate my knowledge of the matter if it isn't applicable. It would do little more than cause unnecessary unease. As I said, I will send a letter to Ipsen and our specialists will look into the matter."

"Specialists on what?" Garnet wasn't going to let them get away that easy. "You'll have to forgive my pressuring you for more answers, but where my son is involved, I will not give way."

"I doubt your son is so much involved as his experience is simply a consequence of the situation," Mikoto replied. "Rather, he is merely a set of ears able to listen in where we cannot. But as I said, I do not want to risk any sort of further upset if it can be avoided. I assure you that if there are answers to be found, we will have them for you as promptly as possible. Given the circumstances, our king will, more than likely, personally involve himself in the matter, which is to guarantee a swift response."

"The king is currently on the southern front," Akitis cut in then. "I received a letter just prior to dinner on the matter."

This was clearly news to Mikoto, who pursed her lips as she turned to Akitis. "Why wasn't I made aware of this?"

"There hasn't exactly been time to brief you on the matter."

"Is it necessary for you to return to Oeilvert?" Mikoto asked.

"As of our latest correspondence, no."

Mikoto took a huffing breath and turned back to Garnet. "As our king is apparently preoccupied, a response may be delayed a few days longer, as it will require a third party contact between here, Ipsen, and Oeilvert. But I doubt we have much to worry about in the immediate future."

"But there is something that could be concerning?" Garnet asked.

"At this point, it's hard to say."

"You're being deliberately inexplicit."

A statement that had Mikoto's eyebrows rising just a fraction. "Contraire, my regular means of interaction are generally considered universally inexplicit."

Supposing that showing any sort of frustration would get her nowhere, Garnet moved on. "Given the circumstances and your previous questioning of Lady Eiko, I assume you believe this may be related to my son's summoning talents."

"If there is any basis for relating this particular situation to those circumstances more familiar to Terrans, then that potential does exist. But until we can be certain, there is no tangible reason to make assumptions. As I have made clear, as soon as we know any concrete facts on the matter, we will let you know."

Given Mikoto's apparent stubbornness, they would likely only keep running in circles if Garnet continued to press the matter. Yet, there was some comfort in simply knowing that the Terrans weren't telling her something and that they knew she knew this. While it didn't give her the upper hand, it did provide her a card to play in the future, should she feel so inclined.

"Then I suppose I must place my trust in you and your king," she decided. "Do relay to him that I am less inclined to be patient given my son's involvement and would be far more agreeable were he to be forthcoming on the matter."

"I will do so," Mikoto agreed.

"Given his temperament and the… situation, he's likely to give us permission to be more transparent on the matter," Akitis added lastly, her statement pulling an even flatter expression onto Mikoto's face, if at all possible.

"I await his response," Garnet said lastly. They shared in formal farewells following, before Mikoto and Akitis climbed the stairs and moved down the hallway out of sight, perhaps in the direction of their own rooms.

"This is all very suspect," Beatrix said, once they were alone.

"I would agree were it not for the fact that they know that to be the case," Garnet replied. "I think it more likely that they do not feel at liberty to say anything more without consent from their king."

"Which means he is either a very controlling ruler or the situation is of a delicate nature."

"Given what we've learned of him, I would assume the latter."

"Which makes the whole thing all the more disconcerting."

Garnet hummed in agreement. They stood in place for some silent seconds then, before Beatrix cleared her throat.

Turning her way, Garnet waited.

"What do you make of this king of theirs?" she eventually asked.

Garnet ignored the way her stomach dropped. "I think he must be a very inspiring man to have such loyal, adoring subjects."

"But do you not think it odd, the way Commander Akitis has described him? His apparent development ahead of so many of his peers? His… social views? I was under the impression that only three of the genomes—excuse me—Terrans could have possibly fulfilled such a position, and of them, only… one… is likely to have encouraged this sort of—"

"I am perfectly aware of what you're implying, Beatrix, as you very well know," Garnet snapped, not meaning to sound so short, but not really regretting it either.

Beatrix bowed her head. "I apologize, Your Highness."

Closing her eyes, Garnet took a deep breath in an attempt to clear her thoughts, instead refocusing her attention on Avon and the day's events. With her emotions safely in check, she turned from Beatrix without a word and headed back up to their room.

Silent, Beatrix followed at her heels.

**oOo**

"Why do we have to wear masks?" Avon was asking. Not because he was opposed to the idea, but more so because he was a very curious young man.

"Because that's the tradition," Garnet said simply, supposing it would do little good to elaborate on the reasons why masks were such an important facet of the festival's lore. One, because Avon wouldn't understand, and two, it would be wholly inappropriate besides.

"Some traditions are best done away with," Steiner muttered, which earned him exasperated looks from both Beatrix and Garnet.

Despite this, Garnet did agree that the roots of the festival were questionable. From what she'd learned, there had once been a King of Lindblum a long time ago that had shared in Cid's questionable past as far as infidelity. But instead of learning his lesson, this king—when caught—had decided that instead of leading an honest life, he'd wear a mask when he went adultering about. The masks, therefore, were to hide the identities of those going out on the town to celebrate and "make merry" in some very debaucherous manners. It was, in many ways, an adult holiday, but prior to midnight, it was very much a celebration where children were welcome. A good time for all, as games, food, shows, and countless other festivities would be lining the streets of Lindblum until dawn. Garnet doubted she or any of her party would be out that late, however.

"Can I wear the red one?" Avon asked, pointing to the one in Garnet's right hand as opposed to the blue mask in her other. Nodding, she placed it upon his face, smiling when he did before tying it snuggly around the back of his head. It was a simple mask that covered only his eyes and parts of his cheeks, but it was decorated with gold lacing and green jewels, a rainbow of feather's lining the sides.

"We should be heading out if we're to meet the regent in time," Beatrix interjected then.

Nodding, Garnet took the blue mask—which was done up in much the same style as Avon's, only in different colors—and put it in place over her own face, tying it tight as they headed down the stairs and out of their guest room. Avon was already darting ahead with Pickle at his side, Steiner powerwalking after him as he bolted down the hallway.

"You may need a leash for him once we get out into the city," Beatrix warned, which had Garnet humming some in agreement despite the fact that her general was clearly joking.

They headed past the fountain and back out into the airship bay, where they'd arranged to meet Cid, Hilda, and Eiko. The three royals of Lindblum were already waiting as they appeared, done up far more extravagantly than their Alexandrian guests.

Gold was their theme color that year, both Hilda and Eiko wearing matching, glittering gowns lined with jewels and beads, while Cid's formal wear was much the same. They all wore matching masks as well, which were far more adorned and decorated than Garnet and Avon's. But seeing as the festival was being held in their kingdom, it was only right that they dress to celebrate.

"You didn't bring a gown to wear?" Eiko asked as Garnet joined them.

"I didn't even think to pack one," Garnet admitted honestly, which had Eiko frowning shortly, before Avon was drawing attention. He was taunting her, pulling up his nose rather rudely, which had the young princess growling.

Truth be told, though Eiko and Garnet were both royalty by adoption, that was about all they had in common (aside from being summoners). Garnet had always been a quiet, reserved sort of personality when out in public. Never uncomfortable, but understated nonetheless. Such attitude had spread into much of her daily life, producing an image of grace, sophistication, and no-nonsense. Eiko, on the other hand, had taken very well to being a princess. She enjoyed all the luxuries and attention that went along with it, more than thrilled to dress up, chat, and perform as necessary. She was approachable where Garnet was distant, and cheery where Garnet was simply polite. Which likely suited Cid quite well, as he was much the same.

But it had put something of a wedge in Garnet and Eiko's relationship in recent years. And while this seemed to confound Eiko, Garnet wasn't too entirely worried about it. She knew what it was like to be young and discovering herself, and knew that once Eiko had a better handle on who she was to be as an adult, she'd come to a better understanding of those different from herself.

"Probably for the best," Cid said simply. "We're likely to draw enough attention for everyone!"

Looking beyond Eiko, Garnet watched as Avon lost interest in his young "aunt" and instead momentarily put his attention on the very tall bodyguard standing but few feet behind the regent and his family.

"Amarant," Garnet greeted, which inspired the tall man to come a bit closer, if only to share a few stunted words with her—as was customary of their relationship.

Following the war, Amarant had attempted to return to his home, to Treno, but even saving the world hadn't erased the wanted posters all over the city. With Garnet's help, he'd managed to relocate himself to Lindblum, where he'd planned to try and "start over," as he'd put it. But it became shortly apparent that with Eiko being a princess, she was going to need to be protected at all times when outside the castle, as she had a propensity for wandering off. Having already known her despite their sometimes…tumultuous relationship, Amarant had taken up Cid's offer to be Eiko's personal bodyguard. It'd been his job ever since, which Garnet thought suited him far better than banditry. After all, Amarant had never wanted to be a criminal. But circumstances (and Zidane's thievery) had put him there.

Sure, Amarant and Eiko still bickered back and forth, but Amarant seemed much happier than he had been when Garnet had first met him, though it was sometimes hard to tell. Yet, Garnet liked to think she'd gotten pretty good at reading him over the years.

He'd grown out his dreadlocks some, his red hair tied back in a low ponytail. And while he didn't wear the same uniform as the castle guards, his clothes had been upgraded a bit, and in dark colors. He was clearly not a noble, but his huge stature and simple attire warned most people to stay away. Which was the entire point, really.

"Garnet," Amarant said simply, not bothering with any sort of formality.

"You'll be joining us out in the city then?" she asked, despite the answer being obvious.

"Can't trust princess here not to go wandering off," he replied, gesturing to Eiko, who was too distracted trying to retrieve her stolen mask from Avon to hear him. If she had, she'd likely have had a few choice words for her bodyguard.

"Keeping track of young royalty is a challenging task," Steiner affirmed, not really complaining so much as stating a fact. But where he seemed to take on the task willingly and with passion, Amarant could only sigh.

"Probably be easier if I took that bow in her hair and just tied her up and left her here," Amarant reasoned, gesturing vaguely to where Eiko was stuck chasing Avon across the airship bay.

"True, but far less fun for her," Garnet replied.

"I didn't know I was supposed to care about whether she has fun or not."

"You're supposed to protect my daughter _and_ look after her emotional wellbeing," Cid interjected, rocking back and forth on his heels as he watched the two "children" begin to tussle on the ground. They were fighting over the mask Avon had stolen, which he was now refusing to give back.

"Right, Sir, of course, Sir, one-hundred percent, Sir," Amarant replied, sounding overtly lackluster. But Cid had long grown used to Amarant's temperament and took no offense in it.

"What are we waiting for, dear?" Hilda asked a second later, as none in their party had made any move to actually leave the airship bay.

"Though she was not entirely enthusiastic about it, Chancellor Mikoto did agree to attend our excursion through the city. I expect she and her retinue will be joining us shortly." Cid looked to Amarant then. "You've met the chancellor, yes? I'm betting you two really hit it off."

"I don't remember liking Zidane's sister and I doubt that will have changed in the last seven years," Amarant reasoned.

Cid looked at him curiously then. "Do you like anyone at all?"

Amarant squinted his eyes thoughtfully, taking a few moments to think. "The list is very short," he eventually determined.

Cid huffed. "I won't ask if I'm on it."

"Probably for the best."

Before any rebuke could be made, they were all turning their attention to the Terrans that had appeared from beneath the grand awning leading into the castle. It was a smaller group of only seven—Mikoto, five other Terrans, and Commander Akitis. The five Terrans were all wearing masks and appeared somewhat more lively than Garnet had seen them previously—perhaps they were actually excited about the festival.

Unlike Mikoto, who was without a mask and wore her usual flat expression as she joined up with everyone else.

Akitis was also sans mask, but as she was likely playing a role similar to that of Beatrix, Steiner, or Amarant, this wasn't so shocking. Like them, she was very much "on duty."

"We have prepared for your festivities," Mikoto said as they met up. "I assume there is nothing else we must do beforehand?"

Cid's eyebrows were already crawling up his forehead. "No, no, you're quite alright. It's a rather informal event all around, masks being wholly optional in the end." Though, seeing as that was part of the appeal, a majority of the populace did wear them.

"Then we're ready," Mikoto said staunchly, sounding more as though she were heading into battle.

Apparently deeming that satisfactory, Cid nodded once in agreement before turning to call Eiko back. She was already stomping her way over, fuming as she attempted to put her mask back into place. Avon, meanwhile, was sprinting ahead of her, grinning far too much beneath his own mask as he headed right for Garnet.

Crouching down, she held out her arms, knowing that if she didn't prepare herself to catch him at that speed, he'd likely attempt to jump right into her arms. Which generally ended poorly for both of them. Yet, when he got too excited, he never seemed to retain any lessons learned.

Bounding right into her, Garnet caught him as he braced himself around her hip, easily adjusting into his usual place as she straightened.

"Hi, Akitis!" Avon shouted a second later, breathing heavily and still pumped full of energy as he flicked his attention to the Terrans.

"Good afternoon, young prince," Akitis replied, offering him a small wave and a smile as she did.

His happy expression then faltered some, as his eyes landed on Mikoto.

"Hello…" he said, clearly addressing her, but also rather subdued and hesitant about doing so.

"Hello, Prince Avon," Mikoto replied stoically, not even really bothering to look at him. But it seemed to Garnet that she wasn't attempting to come across as unpleasant. Rather, she related to him with the same attitude she did everyone.

Staring at her for only a moment longer, Avon soon pulled his attention elsewhere, likely as a result of the group beginning to move on down toward the stairs that would lead them around to the air cab. Eiko was first in line, Amarant right on her heels, while Cid and Hilda walked arm in arm after that. Allowing the Terrans to go on ahead, they followed next, while Garnet and her party trailed last.

Avon was practically bouncing in her arms he was so excited, while Pickle buzzed around them, flitting in and out of sight as he normally did.

"You have Pickle's bag, right?" Avon asked, having to tip his head back to look at Steiner.

"Of course, Young Sir," Steiner replied, holding up the large leather bag that Pickle often required in situations of a more social nature. The moogle would no doubt take to hiding soon after they joined the broader populace.

The air cab was waiting for them as they headed up onto the platform. Filing inside, it was a tight fit for them all, but they made it work. Going to a window in the far corner, Garnet situated herself so Avon could get a clear view of the city as they headed out. They were going to the business district, as that was the main thoroughfare for the festivities. Celebrations were held all over the city, of course, and most of the shows would be taking place in the theater district, but a majority of the street vendors, games, and other related activities would be set up in the direction they were headed.

"Look, Mom, look!" Avon was saying as the air cab took off, his hands and face pressed against the glass of the window as she continued to hold him aloft. She wasn't entirely sure what he was trying to draw her attention to—perhaps everything as they flew out across the city.

It was a nice, isolated moment for Garnet, who was happy to simply focus down on her son instead of everything else wanting to barge into her head. The others around her were chatting, but most had their backs turned to her, allowing her to kind of exist alone in the corner with just Avon. He was mesmerized by the city as it spread out beneath them, pointing out any brightly colored roofs and impressive buildings as they passed.

Yet the air cab ride was by no means long and soon they were docking in the business district. Continuing to hold Avon in her arms, Garnet and her party were once again last, all of them more than happy to let Cid and his family draw any and all attention. Mikoto and her entourage were close behind, seemingly doing the diplomatic thing in taking their cues from Lindblum's leaders. Which was more than fine with Garnet—she was quite happy to be ignored.

The streets were already packed as they left the air cab station. Carts and displays lined the streets up and down both sides, all of them colorful and adorned with banners, feathers, flags, and anything else that would make them appear perhaps more extravagant than their neighbors. Street performers were already out and about as well—sword swallowers, dancers, people on stilts walking about above everyone's head. While children were dashing back and forth and between people's feet, wielding toys of all kinds—likely purchased from vendors. Nearly everyone was clad in a mask or costume, some groups even going so far as to have synchronized their look.

The emergence of the regent and his family elicited cheers and applause from many people as they were spotted, which Cid responded to with an extravagant bow. He was very popular sovereign, Garnet supposing that was much due to his inherent charm and known intellect.

"Wow!" Avon was already enraptured by everything around him, his eyes wide as he watched a man clad in a dragon mask on stilts slowly meander by. His tail was curled and tense up by his shoulders, which Garnet knew was telling if his interest and excitement.

Cid, Hilda, and Eiko were already beginning to wade their way through the streets, easily spotted in their matching, golden attire. But even without that, Amarant's looming presence behind them always gave away their location. Or Eiko's location, in any case.

"Let's go over there!" Avon declared, pointing to where a crowd had gathered around a man doing a difficult routine involving spinning knives.

Happy to let her son lead them onward, Garnet, Steiner, and Beatrix made their way over, listening more so to Avon's awed exclamations than they were paying attention to any of the shows. He was astounded by just about everything—the colors, the wares inside the booths, the multitude of performers and people walking about in costume. He wanted nearly everything they came across, Garnet only giving in part of the time and purchasing what he asked for. Steiner would then take his growing collection and place it inside Pickle's leather bag, where the moogle had taken up hiding nearly as soon as they'd left the air cab station.

By the time they'd made it halfway down the street, Cid and his family were nowhere to be seen, nor were the Terrans. But that was all quite well and good with Garnet. Hardly anyone recognized her and her son at first, Steiner and Beatrix being nearby what inevitably gave away their identities. And even then, while people stared, they didn't approach or remain that interested for long.

There were far more exciting things to bother with than the queen of Alexandria and her loudly excited son.

Something that did make getting through the streets somewhat easier, however, was that Avon was quite content to remain latched to Garnet's side. Which she'd somewhat expected, and why she'd known Beatrix was joking about the leash. While Avon was a very exuberant, outgoing young man, he did get insecure in large crowds. Unlike Eiko, he was never the type to go far when there were too many people about and preferred to remain in Garnet's arms if he could help it. It was easier for him to see, propped up as he was, and clearly offered him some kind of safety net in relation to the chaos going on around him. But it did make it difficult to get him to indulge in any games, as he almost always preferred to just look instead of having to actually slide out of his mother's arms.

And while some might think Garnet would grow tired given his age, he did as Commander Akitis had previously pointed out, clinging quite well to her side all on his own. And as she'd grown so used to his behavior over the years, Garnet's own arm strength was nothing to scoff at.

But all of that aside, Avon was a bit small for his age anyway—at least compared to human children.

"Look, look!" Avon exclaimed for what must have the fiftieth time, "it's Grandpa Baku!" He was pointing ahead through the crowd, where a generous circle of children were gasping at the story a very loud, very stocky man was telling.

"So it is," Beatrix agreed, the group beginning to make their way over as Avon bounced some against Garnet's hip. They didn't interrupt his storytelling, instead remaining off to the side as his robust voice captivated all who listened. They stood by until he was seemingly finished, after which the children were scrambling away at the surprise scare at the end of his tale.

He'd noticed them some time before, and so made his way closer once the path was clear.

"Well, look who it is," Baku said once they met. Clad in his King Leo robe and costume, he appeared almost regal. Almost. "It's a little rascal up to no good, eh?"

Avon practically squealed in delight at the attention, having always been overtly fond of Baku and his theatrics.

"It's been some time, Baku," Garnet greeted, which earned her a light bow from Baku.

"Over a year, I think," he replied as he reached out and pulled on Avon's tail, which had him flicking it aggressively and growling—all with a smile, of course. "Don't get around like I used to, as you know."

Not since Blank and Marcus had taken off with the theater ship. Baku had managed to get it salvaged and rebuilt following the explosion during Garnet's initial "kidnapping," but just after Avon was born, certain members of Tanatlus had taken off with it—much to Baku's continued fury.

The initial idea, Garnet remembered, was that Blank, Marcus, Cinna, and Ruby had decided it was necessary to find out what had happened to Zidane, no holds barred. But… they'd never returned. And though Baku got along just fine running a grounded theater troupe in Lindblum, he'd never quite recovered his notoriety without his travelling theater ship.

Though, frankly, Garnet thought it probably for the best that Baku didn't make it to Alexandria very often. While Baku was clearly fond of Avon, Avon was captivated by Baku. Not only because he knew Baku was basically Zidane's father, but because Baku provided endless entertainment with his stories—be they about kings and runaway princesses, monsters and wars, or bandits and thieves. Garnet was pretty sure Avon was convinced Baku was the end-all as far as people he wanted to be like, which was not really the example Garnet had an interest in her son indulging in overly much.

To be frank, Garnet had made it clear from the very beginning that Avon was never to be left alone with Baku. While she understood that Zidane and Baku had once had a hot and cold relationship—be it one also of respect and familial fondness—she knew enough of how Zidane was raised to be very much uneasy at the idea of Avon being alone with the boisterous troupe leader. Which Baku seemed to respect, despite the fact that they'd never actually talked about the subject.

As Baku had once said to her, all the young people in his troupe were there because they had no better place to be. He was hard on them, but that was still preferable to a life starving on the streets. And seeing as Avon had no need to worry about leading such a lifestyle, it was pretty clear that Baku's place in his life should be at a distance. And truth be told, Garnet felt that Zidane likely would have agreed with such a sentiment.

"You seem as popular as ever here," Garnet replied, already watching as children came creeping back around, no doubt waiting for Baku to start up another of his stories. Garnet noted that some of them appeared a little worse for wear, likely drawn to Baku because he was notorious for providing free entertainment, unlike others.

"Not as popular as I used to be," Baku replied with a sigh. "Didn't even get a spot performing at the Grand Theater this year."

Which was surprising. Generally, Tantalus was given a spot by default at the Grand Theater. One, because Tantalus always put on a good show and, two, because they never shied away from shows for a more mature audience when such a show was in demand.

"Why weren't you offered a spot?" Garnet found herself asking, not really bothering to put a stop to Avon as he reached out and tried to get a good yank on Baku's beard. Baku was doing quite well in avoiding his reach.

"Oh, lots of new talent rising up through the ranks. Besides," he seemingly waved off the topic, "I been a little light on my stage presence these last few months and a little too heavy on the bottle." He laughed boisterously then, Garnet releasing a humming chuckle of her own despite not really knowing what to say.

"What of your troupe?" she asked.

"Ah, most of them have moved on to greener pastures. Tantalus ain't what it used to be. But that's just how things go, I gather. Everybody's got their ups and downs." He then reached out and grabbed Avon's hand, startling the boy as he'd once again been trying to get a hold of his beard. He squealed in delight, hiding his hands against his chest and turning into Garnet with a devious grin, once Baku set him free.

"I suppose that's true," Garnet agreed. "You'll bounce ba—" Before she could finish, Baku released a loud, sudden sneeze, which had Avon jumping in surprise. Baku hardly seemed bothered by it, however, snuffling some before setting his focus back on Garnet.

"Who were those tall ladies with tails walkin' around after Cid?" Baku asked a second later. "Looked like tall versions of them ga-nomes or whatever they were."

"They're Terrans," Garnet replied. "Once called genomes, as you were saying. They're here for trade negotiations with Uncle Cid. And I'm not sure they're all women…"

"Where'd they come from? And what in the world are they trading?"

"They've come from the Forgotten Continent," Beatrix interjected. "Where they've established their own kingdom of Terra."

"Terra, huh?" Baku stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Bet that's where my theater ship is, then…" A deduction he came to so quickly that Garnet found herself somewhat floundering in following his thought process. And before she could fully digest his words, Baku was pushing on. "You tell them I want my ship back," he said sternly. "That blond one I saw just now—Zidane's sister—she'll know where it is. Tell her to tell them to bring it on back before I gotta go out there myself and force it." He sounded wholly serious, and so Garnet simply nodded despite the fact that she wasn't exactly sure where he was getting such certainty.

Or perhaps she was just unwilling to entertain that which everyone else was already seeing for themselves.

The gasping of the crowd ahead of them—nearer the town square—had them all snapping their attention forward. And while there were plenty of people having stalled in their festivities to point and stare, Garnet was initially unable to figure out what, exactly, was gathering so much attention.

"Look up there!" Avon said, pointing up to the roofs of the tall, multi-storied buildings rising up before them. "A man just fell out of the sky!"

Finally zeroing in on what everyone was gasping out, Garnet watched as the man—because he was indeed there—slid down the steep, shingled roof of one of the tallest buildings in the square. He then hopped deftly from the edge down onto a third-floor balcony banister. Wavering for but a moment, he then dropped down further, onto a window ledge that was not really large enough to be more than a skipping point, before he landed atop a final stone awning and then was springing to the ground.

Landing in a crouch, he didn't appear any worse for wear despite his risky maneuvering. Soon straightening, he patted dust from his pants before giving into the applauding crowd. He bowed in several directions, clearly pleased to be soaking up the attention.

"Wow!" Avon was completely awed. "That was amazing!" He was once again bouncing against Garnet's hip, hardly able to contain his excitement as he turned to look at her. "That was like when Aunt Freya jumps reeeeaaaally high and then zooms back down again!"

Which was a fair enough comparison, except for that fact that the man before them was definitely not a Burmecian dragoon. In fact, he appeared initially to be human. A very tall human. Not quite as tall as Amarant, but impressive nonetheless. And while his face wasn't visible for the black, feathered mask he wore, he clearly had long, golden-blond hair which he styled in a low, side ponytail, allowing the locks to cascade over his left shoulder and nearly down to his abdomen. His shirt, meanwhile, was quite foreign in comparison to what was considered "normal." Tight-fitting, the navy blue fabric seemed to suction to his body, revealing the tight muscles of his chest and torso. High collared, Garnet soon realized that it was a halter-top of sorts, as it wasn't connected to his single sleeve as it bent down and around to his back. The one sleeve he did have was on his right arm. Bordered by silver up by his collar, the rest of it matched the navy blue of his shirt, equally as tight as it stretched all the way down to his black leather glove. His other arm was fully exposed, aside from the matching black glove.

His pants, meanwhile, were slack in comparison. They sat at his hip line, black and loose-fitting, almost akin to parachute pants. A single, brown leather belt held them in place, which matched the tall, calf-high leather boots he wore, adorned with metal plates up the sides and front.

It was as she was noticing his boots that realization dawned on Garnet—his style of boot and tight fitting top were very similar to what Mikoto and some of the Terrans wore.

It was at this moment that he turned some to the side, revealing the long, golden tail flicking about behind him.

"Another Terran," Beatrix said at the same time.

Indeed, he appeared to be. Built similarly to the others, he had their wider, more feminine hips and thin stature, but was also clearly lined with muscle, especially in the shoulders and chest, which was unlike most of the Terran's Garnet had thus far seen up close.

He was turning in place, clearly searching for something or someone, and as he did, he gave them all a view of his bare back. Shoulder blades and spine exposed, a thin chain—perhaps jewelry—was clipped around the collar of his fitted shirt, the long, extra links of chain cascading down along his spine.

But aside from that, he was hardly adorned in the manner most other Terrans were. He was quite barren, actually. Simple, yet somehow managing to stand out all the more for it.

And though it was hard to see, the skin on his back—around where his single sleeve started—was mottled and deformed. Scarred, perhaps, as it disappeared beneath tight blue fabric.

A moment later, both Mikoto and Akitis appeared from the crowd. The man wasn't looking at them as they hastily made their way closer, and so was whirling in surprise when one of them, more than likely, said something to get his attention.

The other Terrans loitered behind, but didn't approach directly.

Avon was prattling on in Garnet's ear, but she found herself much more indulged in watching the Terrans. Even beside the others, the new addition was tall, having to look down some at both Mikoto and Akitis. Mikoto appeared to be speaking, saying something that humored the Terran man, who obviously laughed despite the fact that his full mask was hiding his mouth. He then made a motion as if he were waving off whatever it was Mikoto was saying, before he turned on his heel and marched up to one of the closest vendors.

He hardly wasted any time there, however. Lifting a flowery, pink mask from one of the tables, he made a very quick motion of flipping the vendor some gil before he turned and was headed back toward Mikoto and Akitis.

Akitis was suddenly laughing as well, as the man held the mask up to Mikoto's face.

She was not impressed by the ornament, attempting to shove it away while speaking in what looked like a very serious, almost scolding manner. Yet the man wasn't at all fazed and was soon taking Mikoto by the shoulders. In one quick move, he spun her around. Pulling the mask back over her face, he then quickly tied it at the back of her head before she could whip around on him. Which she did shortly after, her finger coming up as she continued to heatedly talk up at him.

"Interesting…" Beatrix said a moment later, Garnet silent despite how her insides agreed. She found that she didn't have much in the way of a voice at that moment, her throat dry and tongue heavy.

"Mom! MOM!"

Startled, Garnet snapped her attention from the Terrans and back to Avon. "Can I get one of those black mage hats?" He was pointing to a booth nearby, one being run by a black mage. They had all sorts of pointed hats up for sale, some in varying colors and others adorned with flowers or feathers.

"Yes, sure," Garnet found herself saying, her voice hollow as she forced her numb legs to walk her across the stone path to the booth. She seemingly allowed Avon to pick out whatever hat he wanted, Steiner paying for it even as both he and Beatrix cast her worried looks.

Turning her attention through the crowd and back to the square, her heart jolted at the fact that Mikoto, Akitis, and the tall Terran were still standing there. The other Terrans had approached by that point, their expressions warm and smiling as they stared up at the man, who was still harassing Mikoto despite the fact that she'd turned away from him. Akitis appeared to be trying to get him to stop, but her attempts were half-hearted at best, which resulted in Mikoto getting her short hair pulled when she refused to turn back.

"Look, Mom!" Avon exclaimed, once again yanking Garnet's attention his way. "Now I really am a black mage!" He was wearing a very large, very purple hat, a broad smile on his face as he tugged it more securely down on his head.

Garnet forced a smile. "That you are."

"Who is that?" Jumping some, Garnet turned around to find Cid and Hilda standing directly behind her. Eiko was nowhere to be found, nor was Amarant. More than likely, she was wandering off on her own, ever watched by her bodyguard.

"We have no idea," Beatrix replied.

"I don't remember any other Terrans having blond hair aside from the chancellor," Cid continued.

"He just now appeared," Steiner explained, pointing up at the sky as he did. "Dropped right down out of the clouds."

Cid pursed his lips. "Interesting…"

With a sudden squeak, the bag in which Steiner was storing all of what Avon had thus collected began to tumble about. Alarmed, Steiner pulled the leather handles apart, many of the toys that'd been sitting on top bursting out as Pickle bolted into the air. Tiny, purple wings fluttering about, he released a single, high-pitched "kupo" before he was buzzing off above people's heads.

"Pickle!" Avon shouted, beginning to struggle in Garnet's arms. Before she could get a proper handle on him, he was sliding loose, landing deftly on the cobblestones before he was disappearing into the crowd.

"Avon!" Garnet shouted, Steiner already dropping the leather bag and sprinting into the crowd in the direction Avon had gone.

Heart beating fast with panic, Garnet followed, Beatrix trailing behind lastly.

While Avon had a propensity for running around wild in places he knew and felt safe in, he'd never run off into the middle of a huge crowd before. Nor had Pickle ever taken off in such a frantic manner.

All of sudden, every worry and doubt that had been weighing on Garnet's shoulders was gone, instead replaced by tense terror and anxiety. Within but seconds, Avon could be scooped up by anyone and stolen away. People had seen them plainly out and about. They hadn't been hiding. Their identities were known.

He was the prince of Alexandria! They had to find him before someone else did!

Before—

Surging abruptly past a line of bystanders, Steiner, Garnet, and Beatrix found themselves skirting to a halt some twenty feet from the Terrans, whom most Lindblum citizens were giving a large birth due to their strange and foreign appearance.

They'd all turned their heads upward, the tall one that had appeared from the sky standing somewhat alert, as if he'd only just been startled. Stance wide, he was watching the black moogle that was buzzing about directly above his head.

While at the same time, Avon was dashing closer, shouting Pickle's name as he skidded to a halt just beside Akitis.

The appearance of a child at their feet had all the Terrans snapping their attention downward, Avon continuing to point up at Pickle and yell to the moogle despite the attention he was gathering.

Relieved, yet abruptly surging with a new sort of restlessness, Garnet found herself frozen in place as she watched her son. Watched as he clearly conversed with the strange new Terran, who was soon pointing a questioning finger up at the fluttering Pickle.

All the while, a high-pitched ringing began to sing in her ears. It drowned out everything around her, leaving Garnet not just frozen, but quite paralyzed.

Steiner looked about to start forward again, but before he could, Beatrix reached out and grabbed him harshly by the arm, holding him in place. He turned to both Beatrix and Garnet with an affronted, offended expression, but neither of them justified him with an explanation.

Reaching up, the tall Terran was easily able to pluck Pickle right out of the air. He held the fluffy black creature quite gingerly, before he very slowly crouched down in front of Avon. There was a slight pause then, before he handed Pickle over.

All the while, the ringing in Garnet's ears grew louder and louder.

Though Pickle's wings continued to flutter, Avon easily reached out and retrieved him. He then hugged the moogle to his chest, which seemed to calm whatever anxiety had inspired the creature to burst away in the first place.

Akitis then interjected herself into the situation, her hand held out as she gestured to Avon. She was introducing him to the Terran man, before in turn, it seemed, she introduced the Terran man to Avon.

Beside her, Garnet knew Steiner and Beatrix were talking, but she couldn't hear them. Couldn't hear anything but that single, high-pitched note that felt as though it could crack her skull right down the middle.

Appearing somewhat hesitant, the Terran man held his hand up toward Avon, wavering for but a second before he gingerly lifted the brim of his large purple hat. Which had Avon buckling back some with shyness, his tail coming up to wrap defensively around his skinny legs.

It was body language the Terran man clearly noticed, as he released Avon's hat within the second and raised his hands, leaning back as he did.

And just like that, the ringing in Garnet's ears snapped into silence. She was blinking, the sounds of Lindblum suddenly rushing into her ears again, while her own breathing echoed far too loudly all around her.

"So very sorry," the Terran man said then, his even voice easily carrying over everything else—the crowd, the mask that veiled his face, Garnet's own nerves. Something in how he spoke had her heart jolting, but she pushed the sensation away as soon as it tried to break free. Defensively even, despite how it clawed at her insides.

"I thought you were the all-powerful sorcerer that had summoned me here," the Terran man continued, ever focused on Avon, "but I must have made a mistake."

"I'm not a sorcerer," Avon replied meekly. "I'm just a kid…"

"Well, what was I supposed to think?" the Terran man asked, sounding almost outraged. "You sent your evil minion to attack me!"

"I didn't!" Avon replied, breaking some from his shyness in lieu of defending his moogle. "Pickle is my best friend, not evil!"

"You know…" the Terran placed a thoughtful finger on the chin of his mask. "I don't think I believe you."

"Pickle's not evil!"

"Tis a ruse!" the man exclaimed, surging to his feet and pacing back a few steps before he whipped back around on Avon. "You're trying to trick me."

"No, I'm not!" Avon claimed, stomping one of his little feet as he did.

"Then why are you wearing that misleading hat, hm?" Hands on his hips, the Terran leaned forward dramatically. "I see through your lies!"

" _You're_ lying!"

"Please, your dastardly, trickster ways won't work on me. Unless…" The Terran man was stroking his chin now. Very dramatically, in fact. "Now that you've seen me for yourself, you've realized that you don't stand a chance against me and you're trying to get away."

"No!"

"You're a yellow-bellied coward!"

"I'm not!"

"You are!"

Growling, Avon's tail went whipping out behind him, cutting viciously back and forth through the air. "I'm not a coward!"

The Terran released a hearty laugh. "You're scared of me, I know it."

"I'm not scared of you! You're a creampuff!"

Steiner pursed his lips, visibly disapproving of such language, while Akitis covered her her mouth with the back of her hand—as if she were attempting not to laugh.

Mikoto sighed and looked very exasperated.

"Them's fightin' words, boy," the Terran man warned.

"I'll fight you!" Avon shouted, hopping a bit as he did. "Let's fight! I'll fight you! I'm not scared!"

"Please." The man feigned being unimpressed. "What could _you_ possibly do to _me_?"

"I'll turn you inside out!" Avon shouted back (where in the world had he heard that?). "And then I'll feed you to Quina!"

The Terran man released a real laugh then, which he quickly covered with a cough before feigning seriousness once again. Suddenly, his long, blond tail was curling around to his front so he could take hold of the end of it with both hands. Appearing abruptly meek, he took a step closer to Avon and leaned down just a bit.

"Can you really do that?" he asked nervously.

"Yeah!" Avon stood straighter then, doing his best to look intimidating despite the moogle he still held tightly to his chest. "You don't stand a chance!"

Gasping, the Terran man fell to his knees, the back of his hand coming up to rest against the forehead of his mask—quite as though he'd nearly fainted from the shock of it all.

"Woe is me!" he cried. "You _are_ the all-powerful sorcerer. And now that I've offended you, I'm done for!" Leaning forward, he was soon bowing down on the ground right at Avon's feet, the nose of his mask nearly touching the street while his fingers played out across the cobblestones. "I'm so sorry! Please don't hurt me!"

Avon took a deep breath, pretending to deliberate before he reached out and patted the the Terran man's blond head in a reassuring manner. "I've decide to _not_ inside-out you," he decided.

"Oh, what a relief." Still bowed atop the street, the Terran turned his head up so he could get a better look at Avon. "A merciful sorcerer. And here I was afraid I'd be inside-out for the rest of my life."

"No." Avon shrugged and sniffed once. "You'd be eaten for the rest of your life."

"Right, of course, turned inside-out and _then_ eaten. I remember."

"You probably taste bad anyway."

The Terran reared back then, sitting back on his feet. "I would not. I'm delicious."

Avon grinned deviously. "I bet you taste like gysahl pickles."

"Now that's just mean."

"Lose the attitude!" Avon warned, sounding exactly like Beatrix. "Or you'll regret it in a fast minute."

"Right, right, of course," the man agreed, before releasing a very heavy sigh. "There must be something I can do so you won't be angry with me anymore. I would hate to live my life afraid that, at any moment, you could change your mind and use your horrible magic on me."

Avon hummed, staring up at the sky as he deliberated, before ultimately returning his attention to the blond man. "Nope."

"I should have known. A grudge is the most powerful kind of magic." A statement that visibly confused Avon, his head cocking to the side. "Well, in that case," yet the Terran continued on anyway, "maybe if I can't make it up to you, I can at least do something to impress you. So you know I'm more valuable, how did you say, _not_ turned inside-out."

Avon was doubtful.

"I can be very impressive," he continued. "In fact, I can do something so amazing, so incredible…"

Avon blinked up at him expectantly.

"No, I couldn't tell you. You'd never believe me."

"What?" Avon asked. "I wanna know! Tell me!"

"I don't know…" The man hummed with deliberation, before abruptly shrugging away any of his fictional doubts. "Alright, I'll tell you."

Avon grinned, hopping back and forth from one foot to the other in anticipation.

"Now, it's going to sound crazy," the man started, holding up a warning finger as he did, "but you have to believe me. And if you don't, well, that'll really hurt my feelings."

"What? What? What?"

"Okay, here goes." He took a deep breath. "I… can turn… into… a _dragon_!"

His dramatic delivery was met with a lackluster response, Avon freezing as he digested the claim, before his shoulders dropped and one side of his lip curled up.

"No you can't," he decided.

"Okay, first of all, ouch, I told you that would hurt my feelings. And second, yes I can!"

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

" _Yes_!"

"Then do it, huh?!" Avon challenged.

The Terran scoffed. "Well, I can't just 'do it,'" he reasoned.

Avon was pouting. "Why not?"

"Because, _obviously_ … it would be too scary. I'd scare everyone in the city and that would be really bad. It'd start a panic. There'd be people running around screaming; there'd be stampedes. It'd be a horrible mess."

"I'm not stupid," Avon said flatly. "I know you're making excuses."

"Hmm, you're right. Can't get past you. But how about this—" Scooting closer to Avon, he gently placed his hand on the child's back, encouraging him to turn until they were side by side. Avon was watching the man through the eyes of his own mask, his tail once again curling shyly around his legs—likely at being in such close proximity to a stranger. But he didn't try to get away either, apparently more interested than he was nervous.

"Now, what I'm about to do is _very_ dangerous," the Terran man continued. "So don't ever try it, got it?"

Avon was, again, doubtful.

"I'm serious!" the man persisted. "Well, you'll see." Pulling up his mask, he pushed it slightly back over his head. It still shadowed his face, Avon likely the only one that could see what was underneath by default of his position.

"Okay, here we go," the man continued, taking a very exaggerated breath in, then out. Then in—his chest heaving—and out again.

"Just do it!" Avon pushed.

"I gotta warm up first! Now look, you interrupted and I gotta start over again."

Avon sighed.

"Okay, okay, let's do this."

"What are you doing?" Mikoto asked flatly, just as the man was once again taking in and releasing his over-exaggerated breaths. Seemingly in response to her question, Akitis reached out and pulled Mikoto back, so she was no longer quite so close.

Taking in one final, very, very deep breath, the man held it for only a second—perhaps building anticipation—before he let go.

And all that happened was that he gagged. Loudly.

"What was that?!" Avon asked, sounding somewhat disgusted and very accusing as he glared up at the man. Who was now coughing.

A few people who had stopped to watch released light laugher.

"I messed up," the man claimed, coughing yet again.

Avon pouted. "I don't believe you…"

"Wait, wait, just give me one more chance!" the man begged dramatically. "This time I'll get it right!"

Avon slumped. "You better not be lying…"

"I'm not! Cross my heart," which he did, just for effect.

Avon huffed, seemingly giving the go-ahead despite being wholly unconvinced.

"I got it this time," the mean assured, rolling up invisible sleeves before once again reaching around and pulling Avon a little closer—almost as though he were trying to keep him from being directly in front of him.

Again, he breathed in, then blew out. A deep breath in, and another long breath out. A huge breath in—

His whole body visibly tensed, his hold on Avon tightening.

Something in the air sparked—something familiar. It was a sensation Garnet knew, as it was a precursor to every spell a black mage had ever cast in her presence.

Within but half a second, the man was blowing out, a huge, scorching blue flame erupting from between his lips at the same time. It blasted into the air in front of him, flashing and causing everyone nearby to jump and gasp, Garnet included.

Avon squeaked, eyes wide as he jumped back. He dropped Pickle in the process, hands going to his mouth as the blue flame folded and swirled for some seconds above him.

And just as quickly as it'd erupted, it was vanishing in a plume of smoke.

It took a moment as everyone overcame their surprise, but those watching did eventually start to applaud.

Avon, meanwhile, overcame his surprised awe in order to ball his hands into fists and squeal in delight.

"See, I told you," the Terran man coughed out, his mask falling back into place as Avon hopped forward, grabbed his arm, and started jumping up and down excitedly.

"Do it again, do it again, do it AGAIN!"

"Yeah, I don't think so," he replied, once again coughing, which turned into a rather grotesque hack. Slamming his fist against his chest, a layer of smoke puffed out from beneath the edge of his mask.

" _Why_ would you do that?" Mikoto asked a second later, clearly incensed.

"I had to impress the sorcerer," the man replied, once again overtaken by a fit of coughing.

"You'll burn your lungs."

"I'm fine," he wheezed.

Avon had stilled, appearing suddenly worried. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, don't worry," the man assured, finally able to take a deep breath. He laid a reassuring hand on Avon's shoulder at the same time. "Like I said, don't ever try it yourself."

Avon frowned. "I tried a fire spell once. I got burned."

"Really?" The man sounded honestly concerned.

"Yeah. It was really bad. Not even my mom's white magic can make the scar go away."

"But you're okay now?"

"Yeah."

The man paused, looking Avon up and down before saying anything more. "You know, I have a scar too. A really bad one. Right here." He pointed to his covered shoulder.

"My scar's on my shoulder too!"

"Yeah? Well, perhaps it's not the best thing we could have in common, but it's certainly not the worst." Reaching up, he pulled Avon's hat more securely down around his ears, causing him to giggle.

"Alright, well…" The man took a deep breath, Garnet aware that he'd looked quickly her way before darting his focus back to Avon. "I think you'd better head back to your mom, hm?"

"No, I wanna play some more," Avon whined, once again holding tight to the man's arm.

"Play?" He laughed. "Play what? That you're a terrifying sorcerer and I'm your unwitting victim?"

"Yeah!"

The man snorted. Reaching up, he gently took Avon by the shoulders, moving on his knees until he was centered in front of him. And though Garnet tried to keep herself calm, she couldn't help the way her heart bolted into her throat when he reached up and delicately brushed Avon's cheek with his finger.

The man then took a visibly shaky breath, seeming to slump some at the same time.

"You gotta ask your mom," he said then, voice audibly strained.

Yet, Avon was completely unaware of the tension sparking all around them. "Okay!" he exclaimed, before turning and ripping himself out of the man's hold.

Somehow, it was painful to watch.

"Mom!" he called, quickly skipping over to where she, Beatrix, and Steiner were yet standing still. Pickle flitted up beside him, practically colliding with Beatrix as Avon came up and wrapped his arms around Garnet's legs.

Crouching down in front of him, Garnet took Avon's tiny waist in her hands.

"Did you see what that man did? Did you see?"

She nodded, her voice momentarily eluding her.

"He blew fire out of his mouth! And it was blue!"

"I saw," she managed to say ever so quietly.

"Can I go play with him some more?" Which might have been an odd question coming from any other child, but seeing as Avon very rarely got to play with children his own age and was more often having to be entertained by adults, it wasn't really that shocking of a request. "He said I had to ask you…"

Garnet was once again at a loss for words. She could only look over Avon's shoulder for a second, barely catching sight of the man again. He had his hand curled up by the mouth of his mask, posture tense as he remained on his knees atop the cobblestones.

She flitted her attention back to Avon, taking in a very shaky, very painful breath.

"Yes," she finally managed get out, her eyes blinking rapidly as she tried to keep her emotions in check. "It's okay." He grinned and immediately tried to pull away, but Garnet held him firmly in place. "But you can't run off again," she made perfectly clear. "I'm going to be right behind you the whole time." He nodded. "You stay with him, Commander Akitis, and Chancellor Mikoto."

"Okay."

She held him a moment longer, swallowing hard before she finally let him go.

He darted away immediately, tail whipping out behind him as he dashed back. "She said it's okay!" he announced as he approached, nearly sliding to a stop in front of the Terran man.

"That's very generous of her," the man said, his voice sounding nearly as broken as Garnet felt.

Standing a second later, the man turned as Avon skipped up beside him. He then held out his hand, an invitation that was more than familiar to Avon. Reaching up, he placed his much smaller hand into the offered larger one.

"You're in charge, oh powerful sorcerer," the man said a second later, as Avon sidled right up next him. "What shall we do next?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess this is kind of a cliff hanger? Well, in any case, it's probably the most interesting chapter I've posted so far, so I hope everyone enjoyed reading it. Poor Garnet is so overwelmed and a bit in denial I think. Ah well, we'll just have to wait and see how it goes.
> 
> I did really enjoy the interactions between "the blond terran" and Avon tho-that was some of the funnest dialogue I've written in a while.
> 
> As always, please leave comments, guys. I'm desperate, haha!


	6. Chapter 6

Garnet couldn't tell if she was in shock or just too overwhelmed to fully digest what was happening. She felt almost like she was floating as she followed Avon and the Terrans through the city. Steiner and Beatrix stayed at her sides, but they didn't say anything. At least not to her. She remained quiet the entire time, despite the raucous noise going on all around them.

Though her body was numb, something inside of her felt jittery and anxious—frightened almost, and like something wanted to burst out of her at any second. But she kept it all locked down, reminding herself over and over again that she was in public. That everyone was watching even when they weren't and that she couldn't have a breakdown where Avon could see anyway.

And so the night dragged, Garnet watching in silence as Avon scampered from booth to display to street performance. Yet, he did as she'd said, staying close to the Terrans and often remaining hand in hand with the tall blond man, who seemed to be doing far more than necessary in order to keep Avon entertained. Between overzealous acts where he pretended to be a character he wasn't, to playing the games Avon was too afraid to try and seemingly somehow always managing to win even when they were rigged, to oftentimes joining the street performers themselves, which always ended with Avon bouncing around at his side in squealing laughter.

It was a far more indulgent night than Garnet ever could have planned, Avon allowed far more toys and treats than she'd have been okay with. Yet, she let it slide, both because she knew it was only one night and because she didn't quite have the gumption to say anything about it.

It was easier, keeping her distance. A watchful eye. After all, for as much fun as the man was allowing Avon to have, he was equally as careful. Avon was nearly always right beside him, the man seeming to hover protectively even when Avon was so preoccupied that he hardly noticed anything going on around him. His entire focus was on Avon, anyone else nearby wholly unimportant in comparison to the attention he was giving her son.

By the end of the night, Garnet was certain this man was the apple of Avon's eye—something she wasn't entirely sure how to feel about.

But as the hours ticked on, Avon's seemingly inexhaustible energy did begin to run low. As was typical of children who went too hard too fast, as soon as he was fully spent, he was basically unconscious. Within some thirty minutes, he'd begun to lag, before practically falling asleep on his feet. He only had the time to stumble once, however, before the Terran man was reaching down and gathering him into his arms. Legs splayed out on either side of the man's waist, Avon's head was resting against his collar while his little hands were tucked up between them.

Eyes closed, he was already fast asleep.

"It's nearly midnight," Steiner was saying quite fiercely to Beatrix. "We should have retrieved the prince long before now."

"Steiner, please," Beatrix replied.

"I don't care who he is," Steiner hissed then. "The prince should be back in the castle in bed."

"Stay with the queen," Beatrix said shortly then, before she took a huffing breath and marched forward. And though she knew she should be the one to be taking action, Garnet was thankful someone else was wading into the trouble, sparing her more time before the inevitable.

Steiner came and stood right beside her, ever-watchful as Beatrix joined the Terrans. She was stiff as she spoke with them—all business—and was nodding toward the air cab station within the moment.

A few more words were exchanged, between her and the Terran man it seemed, before he was nodding his masked face in agreement. A second later, Beatrix was turning to come back their way, the man still holding Avon quite securely in his arms.

"We're returning to the castle," Beatrix said. "They'll escort Avon back with us, if that's amendable to you, You Highness."

Steiner was displeased, but Garnet ignored him.

"It's fine," she said quietly. "Let's go."

Beatrix nodded in affirmation to the Terrans a second later, which seemed to be the go-ahead they needed to start making their way down the street toward the air cab station. They weren't far and so Garnet, Steiner, and Beatrix followed behind, as they had been the whole night. Wading through the crowds, Garnet checked herself once again, uncertain what would happen if she allowed herself to lose even the slightest bit of control.

Hands fists at her sides, she kept marching.

She just needed to keep moving.

The air cab was waiting for them as they climbed the stairs into the station, but they weren't the only ones waiting to board. They could, of course, make it clear who they were and force those already waiting to continue doing so, allowing Garnet's party and the Terrans to take the trip alone. But Garnet didn't have it in her to object to anything in that moment and so said nothing as the some seven Lindblum citizens boarded, then the Terrans, then her own party.

Moving to the left, the Terrans took up position on the far side, Garnet, Steiner, and Beatrix remaining by the door. Steiner asked if Garnet wanted to move in further, to take a seat, but she silently shook her head and instead put her attention on Avon.

The man was holding him gingerly—carefully—and was rocking back and forth slightly as the air cab lifted off. Avon, meanwhile, was sound asleep, his mouth hanging open just a bit. He startled a bit at the jolting the air cab's engine, as they started forward, his eyes cracking open, but the man rubbed his back and kept rocking, which had Avon falling back asleep within seconds.

Though he was still wearing his mask, the man leaned his cheek down atop Avon's head, continuing to gently rock him all the way back to the castle.

The trip was both too long and too short for Garnet, her heart skipping at the idea of having to take action as they landed outside the palace. As they were standing at the door, she and her party were the first to depart, the lamps lining the stairs lit and guiding them down through the night.

Once at the bottom, Garnet, Steiner, and Beatrix all stepped aside, watching as those who likely worked in the castle made their way by, heading down a different path than what she would take. The Terrans passed by next, Garnet's party stepping in behind them as they walked through the open doors that would lead them down a short corridor and back into the airship bay. Soon, they were up the shallow stairs and standing inside the vast room, a few of the Terrans whispering to each other inside what was otherwise a very suffocating quiet.

The Terran man, however, didn't seem to care the least bit about the others with him, pressing on through the room to the hall that would lead him into the castle.

Which was when Beatrix stepped forward. Not to stop him, but to, instead, stop everyone else. She slid right in front of Akitis and Mikoto—behind the Terran man and Avon—and silently held up her hand. They came to a stop, of course, as did all the other Terrans in their company.

Not really caring if they took any offense to Beatrix's interference, Garnet pushed on ahead, trailing the man and her son even as they left everyone else behind. Not even Steiner came with her, Beatrix reaching out to grab his arm even as he tried to follow.

The quiet of the castle was even more stifling as they left the airship bay behind. The guards stationed throughout did nothing as they moved through the initial entrance hall, knowing that Terrans were staying in the castle and likely supposing this man was no different. The sound of the water fountain was almost jarring as Garnet passed by it, her teeth gritting as she turned and continued to follow the man beneath the archway leading up into the guest hall.

He clearly knew where he was headed. Staying behind, Garnet simply followed as he turned into their guest quarters, allowing him to lead the way. The oil lamps were lit, no doubt so as to welcome them back. They headed past the blue-toned lower level and on up to where Garnet and Avon were staying. Using the railing for support and ignoring how her hand trembled, Garnet continued up as well, only coming to a stop at the top of the stairs.

For a few seconds longer, the man held Avon in his arms, silent as he stood beside the closest bed. When he did finally bend over the mattress, the motion appeared almost painful, as if the idea of letting Avon go was akin to tearing away his own skin. He was so careful—overly so—as he laid Avon down upon the comforter, and instead of pulling back, he carefully sat down on the edge of the bed beside him.

Bent over, he continued to cradle Avon between his arms, only reaching up to remove the purple black mage hat and mask, before setting them aside. He then slid his own mask up, so it rested on the top of his head. Garnet still couldn't see his face clearly for the shadows of the room, but the way he reached down and ran the backs of his fingers along Avon's cheek was clearly visible.

Sighing deeply, his breath audibly trembled.

He stayed like that for many minutes, watching Avon sleep as Garnet watched him.

Perhaps it was the fact that they were finally alone, or maybe it'd simply taken this long to thaw out her emotions, but Garnet was beginning to feel it—the heat that was expanding inside of her. It started first at the base of her stomach, growing worse and worse as each second slowly ticked by. Until she had to ball her hands into strained fists just to keep herself standing in one place.

None of it was what she'd expected, but given the circumstances, she couldn't have ever known what to expect. She'd been through plenty in her life—war, heartbreak, anguish and agony of the acutest kind. But through it all, never had she felt so angry.

So dangerously furious.

It was only Avon's peacefully sleeping face that kept her under control, but not even that could temper the glare now zeroed in on the back of that blond head.

Perhaps he could feel it like the rising of the temperature or tides, because soon he was leaning back. And though watching the way he forced himself to break away from Avon was visibly raw and painful, Garnet found that any sympathy was evaporating beside her temper.

There was certainly more to the story, whatever it happened to be, but she couldn't see any of that through the murky darkness of the room. All she could see was that tall silhouette standing up beside her son, both foreign and familiar. And all she could think about were the questions that remained unanswered. All the grief she'd suffered through, all the nights she'd lain awake in bed because of tortured thoughts, all the worry and stress and unfulfilled promises.

Who was this man? And what right did he even have to be there?

Finally turning away from Avon, Garnet was only made all the angrier by the fact that his face was once again shielded by that black mask. His blue eyes blinked out at her, but even those were shadowed.

For some seconds, they simply stood and stared at one another, Garnet's jaw tight and her heart beating loudly in her ears.

He was the one that looked away first. There was something vulnerable and sad in his eyes, which only infuriated her further. What she wanted were answers. Justifications from his own mouth. Literally anything that would void the wrath continuing to boil inside her. But he offered nothing. No words, no apologies—not even his face.

Instead, he took another shaky breath and moved closer. Forward, to the stairs. Which had Garnet leaning back some like a startled animal, her back bumping into the banister behind her. The sight of her own flinching had him faltering, his eyes once again flitting up to her own.

At the top of the stairs, they stood but a few feet from one another, yet never before had Garnet felt so far away from him. Which only inspired her to contribute further, if only as a means of protecting herself.

Turning away, she pursed her lips and stared off to the side. Anywhere but at him. Which seemed to break whatever moment had been hanging between them.

Hesitating but a moment longer, he turned away as well before continuing on down the stairs. It wasn't until Garnet was certain his back was to her that she whipped back around to watch him. Watch him hit the bottom step and move on past the other two beds. Down the second flight of shallow stairs, until the shadows of the hall were swallowing him whole.

Until he was vanishing—once again disappearing right out of her life.

In a flash of panic, she was back on the Hilda Garde III, the setting sun casting everything in a warm haze as she watched him. Watched him watch her, before he turned and walked away from her forever.

Her anger wasn't gone, but it was overtaken by desperation. Pushing herself away from the banister, she rushed down the stairs, first one flight, then the next. Through the shadowed doorway until she was standing in the castle corridor, her breath coming fast as she looked first one way, then another.

"Zidane?" Her voice was weak and breaking, his name a scalding burn on her tongue.

Pain that she went through for nothing.

He was gone.

It flooded up through her, the despair. It grabbed hold of her chest and throttled, leaving her unsteady on her feet as she backed up into the nearby wall. Hands shaking, she tried to find some kind of leverage with which to hold herself up, but there was nothing. Sinking to the ground, she collapsed in an ungraceful heap, her breath coming up short as her gaze darted frantically around the darkened castle.

"Zidane…" she whispered, voice choked as pressure welled up behind her eyes. But even so—

She was alone.

**oOo**

Garnet had barely slept at all. Sitting at the small table upon the dais in their guest room, she rubbed her hands down her face as if that would somehow wipe away her exhaustion. It didn't, of course, nor did she have much of an appetite, which left little that might be able to revitalize her for the day.

Avon, by contrast, was happily munching away on his breakfast across from her, his legs kicking out under the table as he hummed to himself and accidentally smeared jam across his cheek. The sun was cascading in through the windows above, casting warm shadows across his face that made him appear all the more like his father. Sometimes, when she looked at his face, she saw none of herself and all of Zidane, a point that was all the more bitter that particular morning.

It felt a bit like a dream. The festival, the lights and colors, that Avon had spent nearly the entirety of the night with what amounted to a stranger. She had a hard time believing it'd happened at all, or that she'd allowed it. It was almost like she'd been in a daze the entire time, watching through foggy windows or taking a peak into another dimension. Which left her all the more at a loss as far as how to deal with it.

What was she supposed to do, after all? Where did this leave her? Leave Avon? What did it all mean? She had so much information that it was overwhelming, but too little to do anything.

Then again, Zidane knew where she was and where Avon was. Perhaps it wasn't up to her to do anything. Maybe it never had been. Or so a bitter, resentful, angry voice in the back of her head was arguing.

But she also wanted answers. If there was anything she'd learned, it was that she had to be proactive if she wanted to get anything done. Which likely meant asking the right people the right questions.

Whatever those questions happened to be…

"Okay, I'm done!" Avon announced, leaving only crumbs on his plate, while Garnet's entire breakfast yet remained.

"Already?" she asked, having enough discipline to realize that whatever inner turmoil she was experiencing, she couldn't let it leak through into Avon's day. "You were up early and now you've rushed through breakfast. Why are you in such a hurry?" She spared him a small smile then, which felt altogether forced surrounded by her exhaustion.

"I wanna go, I wanna go, I wanna go," he replied, bouncing in his seat.

"You're only going to your lessons," she reminded him. A reminder that garnered no response, as he was distracted looking around Garnet and down toward entrance to their rooms, where Steiner and Beatrix were arming themselves for the day.

He then frowned, appearing altogether too thoughtful as he began to pull at his bottom lip with his fingers.

"Alright, I suppose there can be no ill from getting to the study early," Garnet decided, afraid that if she didn't release him soon, he'd burst right out of his seat.

Cheering, Avon vaulted to the floor and was sprinting toward the stairs.

"Don't run down the stairs!" Garnet scolded quickly, which had Avon skidding to a stop. Tossing her a cheesy smile, he made a very obvious show of taking each step down very carefully, his hand holding tight to the railing.

And while Avon was seemingly excited to start the day, Garnet was quite the opposite. As it would be uniformly offensive to skip any of the trade meetings that day, she knew bowing out wasn't an option. Which left her all the more nervous.

After all, Zidane had shown up out of nowhere the day before. And while she wasn't apt to voice it out loud, Garnet had kind of surmised who he was in relation to the other Terrans. It seemed likely, then, that he would be participating in the meetings to come. It would be rather reductive for him to be in Lindblum and not do so, after all.

The day before had seemed like such a dream—she wasn't sure how she'd react to seeing him participating in everyday meetings. What did it mean that he would do so? For her kingdom? For the Terrans?

For Avon?

It was all just too much for a morning where she'd gotten so little sleep beforehand.

"You Highness?" Startling, Garnet abruptly found herself at the bottom of the stairs, Beatrix staring at her in concern. "Are you alright?" she asked gently. "I've attempted to call you three times now."

"Yes, I'm fine," Garnet lied. "Just… have a lot on my mind." A statement that Beatrix didn't argue. Rather, her expression seemed to agree.

Steiner, meanwhile, had stopped Avon from rushing right out the door. Having taken Avon's hand in one of his own, the other was holding Pickle comfortably under his arm—quite normal, really. But the tense, stern look on Steiner's face was anything but.

"The prince is to go about his lessons as usual?" he asked as Garnet approached.

"Yes, I think that's best," she replied. "You'll be made aware if any plans change."

Apparently having nothing to say, Steiner pursed his lips and nodded, before turning so as to let Avon lead him out the door. Garnet and Beatrix followed after, the monotony of the expected feeling somehow out of place.

As soon as they were out the door, Avon was stretching the length of both his and Steiner's arm, leaning and pulling as he attempted to get a good look around. Almost as though he were looking _for_ something. Which only served to unnerve Garnet further.

Heading down the hall, they were soon inside the first entrance hall. A few nobles were standing about, as were multiple Terrans. Likely, they were all in wait for the trade meetings to start up on the third floor.

"Akitis!" Avon yelled suddenly, when the Commander's pale blue hair was visible around the fountain.

Hearing her name called, she stepped around to greet them, smiling down at Avon while he hopped excitedly in place.

"Off to your lessons?" she asked, offering Garnet and her retinue a light bow in greeting.

"I guess," Avon replied, suddenly going still as he cocked his head at Akitis. "Where's my dad?"

It was a question that dropped a chill down Garnet's spine, both Beatrix and Steiner freezing in place and paling alongside their queen. While Akitis visibly tensed, looking down at Avon as though she wasn't entirely sure what to say.

"Uh, well…" she stammered.

Garnet, meanwhile, felt a surge of anger rush through her, which thawed her chill and got her moving.

"Avon," she said strictly as she bent down in front of him. Taking him by the waist, she turned him until he was facing her. And while he wasn't in any sort of trouble, her tone had him visibly unsettled. "Did that man last night _tell you_ he was your father?"

True it may be, but not something he had any right to tell Avon himself. A child, who could hardly understand the gravity of the situation they currently found themselves in. There was still so much to deal with and Avon being aware of anything being amiss only added to the baggage.

"N—No," Avon replied meekly, his tail coming up to curl around his legs nervously.

An answer that only managed to baffle everyone listening.

"Then how do you know that?" she asked firmly.

Avon twitched a bit in place, looking anywhere but at his mother for just a few seconds, before ultimately giving in. "Pickle told me," he muttered.

"Pickle told you…" Closing her eyes, Garnet attempted to reorganize her thoughts. Only to open them again when Pickle audibly squeaked. Bolting from Steiner's hold, he plopped to the ground before bustling over to a bench nearby. Once he was safely under it, he shrank down into the shadows, sufficiently cowering.

Supposing, then, that there was nothing to be done about the situation, Garnet returned her attention to Avon.

"I'm sorry," Avon muttered, looking confused.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," Garnet replied, reaching up and wiping vainly at the jam smear on his cheek. "I'm sorry I was short with you."

Her apology earned her a shy smile, before Avon was once again flicking his attention up to Akitis. Expectantly, even, which in turn had Garnet doing the same, albeit far more defensively.

"Well, in that case…" It was Akitis who was now made to be uncomfortable. For the first time since they'd met, she appeared entirely awkward in her own skin. She seemed to be debating what to say, before she clicked her tongue and took a knee in front of Avon.

"I'm so sorry, little one," she murmured. "But… your father's not here."

A claim that surprised more than just Avon. Yet, even as Garnet, Beatrix, and Steiner attempted to mask as much, Avon slumped. His previously good humor was replaced with a frown, Garnet easily deducing why he'd been in such a happy mood in the first place.

"Why not?" he asked softly.

Akitis sighed. "He had to go home."

"Why?"

"Because he… Because he has a lot of work to do there. And nobody can do it but him."

It was clear by the struggle on Avon's face that he was trying to understand, but then his whole body seemed to shuffle a bit in place, giving away just how upset he was quickly becoming.

"When's he coming back?" he asked, beginning to sound a bit touchy. And while Garnet wanted to swoop in and somehow take Avon away from all this, she also knew it was too late. Besides, she was also interested in what Akitis had to say.

"It's… very hard for him to come here," she replied.

"Why?" Avon practically demanded to know.

"Because it's very far away from where he has to be, and if he's away from home too long, then… bad things could happen."

An explanation that wasn't good enough for Avon, and that inspired a great deal of curiosity in Garnet.

"How far away is he?" Avon asked, his tiny voice beginning to break.

"On his way to a whole other continent, little one. On the other side of the world."

A distance that Avon couldn't feasibly measure, but that he knew was a very long way off. Which only accelerated his upset, his bottom lip and chin beginning to tremble. Tears were visibly forming along his eyes, his whole chest beginning hiccup.

Turning into Garnet, he took hold of her sleeve as a single tear broke loose and slipped down his cheek. And while the cause of his distress was heartbreaking, Garnet found herself more immediately concerned with his mounting frustration.

"We can go there too, right?" he asked, twisting the fabric of her shirt in his hand. "In the airship?"

It was like another entire wave of exhaustion had piled itself atop Garnet's shoulders.

"I don't think so, honey," she murmured.

Which was not the answer Avon had been looking for.

With something akin to a crying shriek, he shoved Garnet's arm away. Stumbling back, his tears were falling full force now, his tail whipping aggressively out behind him.

"Avon…" She wanted to sound firm, but the cause of his tantrum had her feeling more sympathetic than such behavior might have usually elicited.

"No!" he screamed back at her, stomping one of his little feet. "I wanna go!"

"Avon," she said, forcing herself to sound stricter. Meanwhile, everyone in the entrance hall was turning to look at them, his fit drawing every eye in the room.

"I wanna GO!" he cried.

"Young Sir," Steiner interjected, reaching out to try and offer a reassuring hand, but all it really did was have Avon shying away from him.

"NO!" he shrieked, before he turned on his heel and darted away. Back the way they'd come. Standing quickly, Garnet didn't even bother with the helpless look on Akitis's face. She turned and walked after Avon with as much dignity as she could, Beatrix and Steiner trailing right behind her.

As soon as they were beyond the entrance hall, she picked up the pace, jogging quickly as she saw Avon's tail vanish around the doorway into their rooms. Which was a relieving sight, as Garnet would much rather he throw any sort of fit or have any sort of breakdown where she could keep track of him in privacy, versus the alternative of literally anywhere else in the castle.

He'd already rushed his way up the stairs by the time they were through the doorway, Garnet able to make out the sounds of his frustrated sobs from up on their level. Motioning for Beatrix and Steiner to stay in the area below, she headed up the final set of stairs.

She spotted him curled on her bed as she came up fully, the pink comforter crunched up in his fists as he laid almost facedown atop one of the pillows. Taking a deep breath, she made her way over and gently sat down on the bed beside him, which earned her little more than a muffled screech as he shifted against the bed onto his other side, so he was no longer facing her.

Supposing it would do little good to push him, Garnet laid her hands in her lap and waited. His sobs tugged at her heart, but attempting to talk to him when he was so emotionally beyond reason would do no good. Instead, she'd just stay with him, even if it meant she missed part of the trade meetings going on elsewhere.

No, she didn't always treat Avon's temper tantrums with such patience. While he was a well-mannered child most of the time, he was just as prone as any other child to bouts of ill-temper when it suited him. Sometimes his fits were deserving of punishment, sometimes she waited for him to calm down so as to teach him some about what it meant to apologize.

But this time…

This time she didn't entirely blame him. Given what he'd apparently learned and all that had happened in such a short time, she was certain he was beyond overwhelmed. The fact that they weren't even at home, in Alexandria, likely only made it worse.

After all, Garnet couldn't blame him when she herself was so incredibly frustrated and upset by all that was going on. No, she wasn't screaming, but that wasn't to say she didn't want to lash out. Specifically, she wanted to give one man in particular a piece of her mind, no matter the reasons or justifications surrounding their situation. But as that was apparently impossible—because he wasn't even _in_ Lindblum anymore—she'd have to continue to suffer.

Yet, if there was anything she could do to ease her son's suffering, then perhaps that was better focused on. The first step was patience—because she knew he'd eventually calm down and talk to her.

The first sign was that his sobbing gradually became a light whimper, which then turned into a stubborn silence that lasted some ten minutes. He continued to face away from her, perhaps angry at her too, and it was only when his tail flicked back and landed against her thigh that she knew he was coming out of it.

Reaching down, she gently brushed his dark tail with her hand, soothing him as best she could in what way he was allowing. It was a few minutes after this that he finally came around. Rather swiftly, he turned over and was crawling into her lap, Garnet wrapping her arms around him as he buried his face in her chest.

He was still crying, his body hiccupping, and so she rocked him gently, running her hand up and down his back as he continued to hide his face away from the room. His tail had come up to wrap tightly around her waist, while his hands grasped at the fabric of her blouse.

"It's okay," she said gently. "No one's angry with you."

"Yes they are," he replied, his voice somewhat muffled.

"They're not," she assured. "I promise."

"Then why did he leave?"

It was a question that Garnet didn't entirely know how to answer. And her silence had Avon leaning his head back, bloodshot eyes looking pleadingly up at her.

"He didn't—He didn't leave because he's mad at you," she finally said. Yet her words didn't appear to be convincing, his sad expression remaining as he slid from her lap onto the mattress beside her. Holding his tail in his hands, he fiddled with the hairs and again refused to look at her.

"Avon, he didn't leave because of you," she repeated. Taking hold of his chin, she turned his head so he had to look up at her. "It doesn't have anything to do with you."

"But what if—what if—"

She waited.

"What if he left because he doesn't like me…"

"Avon, listen to me." Moving off the bed, she bent down on her knees in front of him, her hands coming up to cover his own. "That's not the reason he left. I watched you with him all night and I guarantee he likes you. He loves you." Which was an odd thing to say, really, but for all the doubts and confusion running through her head, she did have faith in that. No matter what else was happening, she knew Zidane loved him—loved their son. She didn't doubt his character—at least, she didn't want to. And if this man was anything like the Zidane she'd known years before, then she was wholly confident in what she was telling Avon.

"Then h—how come he w—waited so long?"

"Waited for what?"

"Waited to come and see m—m—me?"

"Oh, Avon…" Slumping a bit, Garnet held his little hands a little tighter. "You're asking me a very hard question."

Which wasn't answer enough for him, as she very well knew.

"Do you want the truth?" she asked, to which he nodded. Because of course he did. "I don't think… I don't think he knew about you until very recently."

An explanation that only served to confuse him further.

"So when—when your father and I—when we made you, well, we didn't know right away, because sometimes parents just… don't know until later. And by the time I knew you were growing inside of me, your father was already gone."

"Gone where?"

"Well, at the end of the war, he stayed behind to… help someone. Someone who needed his help. And then I think he ended up having to help a whole lot of people. So he… never came home. And because of that, we all thought that…"

"That he died?"

"Well… yes…"

"But he didn't…"

"No, apparently not."

"Then how come he didn't stay…?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "Commander Akitis said he's very busy. And from what your Uncle Cid and I have talked about, it sounds like maybe there's some kind of…" He wouldn't understand the word "conflict." "Battle going on, at his home."

"Oh…"

"I mean it, Avon. He didn't leave because of you. In fact, I think that… that perhaps the only reason he was here was to see you." It came to her quite quickly then, understanding. "It was a very long trip for him to come all the way here, to spend time with you." To meet him. See him for the first time, even if he'd known he couldn't stay. "I'm certain, actually, that as soon as he learned about you, he was coming in order to see you."

She wasn't sure how he'd have gotten to Lindblum so quickly, but Mikoto had acted like correspondence between them—well, between her and their "king"—could be done in a very timely manner. And given that Mikoto had probably realized upon seeing Avon the first time whose child he must be, she'd likely alerted Zidane as swiftly as possible. Which in turn is why he'd shown up when he had.

Of course, if Baku was right and the Theater Ship—along with the other members of Tantalus—were in Terra, then that didn't quite make sense, because certainly Zidane would have known of Avon long ago were that the case. But perhaps Tantalus weren't, in fact, in Terra.

In any case, Zidane had spent almost all the time he'd been in Lindblum with Avon. As short of a visit as it'd been, she couldn't diminish the significance of that. Terra was, after all, a very long way away, so it wouldn't have been some small task to make it all the way to Lindblum. And the fact that he'd made the trip if only to spend a few hours with Avon spoke volumes.

But it also left her confused and, well, disheartened.

Why hadn't he ever come back to _her_? No, she knew the answer to that. She'd spoken enough to Akitis to get a good idea. But he could have sent word. Or taken just a short break to come and see her. The Terrans had airship technology, after all. From what Akitis said, they'd had such technology from the very beginning, as it'd been harvested from Terra itself.

So why had he stayed silent?

A treacherous voice in the back of her thoughts tried to tell her it was because he didn't love her anymore. That where he loved Avon, no affection for her remained. But that was just too much for her to deal with at the moment, and so she pushed such thoughts aside. Maybe it was true, maybe it wasn't. She wouldn't actually know until she got the chance to speak with him.

Until then, she'd remain focused on Avon.

"But I wanted him to stay…" Avon murmured brokenly.

"I know." Reaching up, Garnet gently caressed his cheek. "I think… I think he probably wanted to stay. But there must be something very important that he has to do, to take him away from you so quickly."

"B—But," he was beginning to cry again, "what if I never see him again?"

"You will. I'll make sure of it." She took a huffing, determined breath. "I'll figure everything out, okay? I promise."

It took him a second, but he did eventually nod. Leaning into her again, he buried his face in her chest, hands clinging to the fabric of her blouse. Holding him gently, Garnet allowed him the time he needed to further express his upset, her own thoughts backtracking over everything she'd just told him—if only because the words had come so swiftly that she'd hardly had time to actually reflect on them.

But now that she was, she found herself not only distressed over her own insecurities and questions, but over the implications behind the larger situation. If Cid was right and the Terrans were dealing with some kind of conflict, then where did that place Zidane? He'd left Lindblum nearly as soon as he'd come, seemingly because he'd had to—according to Akitis. Was the conflict in Terra so bad that he had to be attending to it at all times? And, if so, was he in danger?

Yes, she was angry and confused, but the thought still left her nauseated.

"Mom?" Avon's small voice pulled her attention back his way. "Do I really have to go to lessons today?" The look on his face appeared so honestly put-off at the idea that she decided missing one day wouldn't hurt.

"No, not today," she assured, which didn't earn her the smile such a cancellation normally would. Instead, he just leaned his head back into her chest and collapsed a bit more in her arms.

Releasing a sad sigh, she held him tighter.

But any comfort either of them could have found in each other was cut short. Though she couldn't see over the railing and down into the room below, she heard when there was a knock on the door. Steiner answered, but any words exchanged were inaudible.

A few moments later, Steiner was coming up the stairs. He appeared grim, holding out a folded letter as he approached the bed. The sight of it had Garnet's stomach dropping, as it didn't take a genius to assume the writer. Even Avon had looked up curiously, leaning back as she silently took the letter.

"Can you take Avon out to play?" she asked, her voice sounding hollow. "He doesn't have to attend lessons today."

Avon grabbed her arm. "What's that paper, Mom?"

She continued looking at Steiner. "Please."

"Come now, Young Sir," Steiner said, reaching around Avon and gently encouraging him off the bed. "The queen has some serious business to attend to."

And while he didn't appear wholly convinced—his frown making that quite clear—Avon did as he was asked. Hopping down off the bed, he took Steiner's hand. Turning his head over his shoulder, he watched Garnet as long as he could, before he disappeared down the stairs.

She waited until she heard the door click closed behind them before she gathered the gumption to drop her gaze to the letter in her hand. It was heavy, folded into thirds, and was multiple pages of the same thick, shimmery parchment the terrans had used previously. Flipping it over, she noted that the pages were held together with a royal seal, the deep blue wax imprinted with with what looked like the triangular design she'd come to affiliate with the terran architecture they'd explored during their adventures years ago.

She stared at that symbol for many long seconds, heart heavy. But perhaps ripping the bandage free was the best course. There was no way of knowing what the letter would have to say, but it'd be a total lie to claim she wasn't curious. She knew she'd read it eventually, no matter how the tense anticipation stoppered her. No point in waiting—no point in putting off the inevitable.

Swallowing hard, she slid her nail along the seal until it broke, her heart hiccupping in her chest as she unfolded the parchment and set her eyes on the familiar handwriting. Small, slanted, a bit messy, but neater than she remembered. The loops and long lines decorating the taller letters were less frenzied, more controlled.

More practiced, perhaps.

She read:

_Queen Garnet;_

The formal address hit her like a hammer to the chest. No, it wasn't as formal as most letters addressed to her would be—no elongated intros, her full name left off—but it wasn't the address she wanted. That she'd needed all these years.

Closing her eyes, she took another deep breath and steadied her emotions, before glancing down at the letter and trying again:

_Queen Garnet;_

_I wanted to start this letter with a sort of frankness that would get right to the point, but doing so left me at a loss on how to start. While this letter is being written in haste—I apologize for any messy script,_ ~~_though that would probably be more familiar to you, as would a general sense of cocky messiness that I would be more than happy to indulge in had I the time to draft a properly convincing rough, but as I don't, we'll both have to settle for what has become habitual formality on my part as far as general script, as I've grown quite accustomed to a sort of educated expression that must read very foreignly to you, and I'm rambling, as I have a propensity to do, so onward_ ~~ _—the swiftness of it (this letter being the subject that I have sidetracked from) does not diminish its importance. I would have preferred to speak with you directly, but time and circumstances make that nay impossible, so this will have to suffice for the time being. I'm writing even as I prepare to leave Lindblum, though I have only been here some few hours. Unfortunately, that which is necessary calls me away, an excuse that is insufficient, but is all I have._

~~_I find myself faltering now, writing continuously as a means of organizing my frazzled thoughts, as I have no one that I feel currently comfortable bouncing ideas off of. I'm quite terrible inside my own head, as it would turn out, and am ill-suited to any sort of internal struggling. Yet, the idea of discussing what needs to be discussed with anyone aside from you is wholly unappealing, thus I find myself running in circles. A wasted paragraph, this, and pointless all around. I'll scratch it out._ ~~

_The first point, then, must be Avon._ ~~_The obvious place to start_ ~~ _~~.~~ It would be extremely unbecoming to address firstly my absence from his life, so I will leave that to the last. Excuses fit poorly on everyone, I have learned, be they reasonable or not. While I may be out of place in saying so, you have done brilliantly with him. I have known him only a few hours and already I am exceedingly pained at having to leave him. A likely claim, you may think, but I am wholly sincere, even if the learned formality of my writing makes all my statements ring with aristocratic artificiality. _ ~~_I hate it, truly, and had I the time I would draft you something more suitable, as I said previously._ ~~ _He is… everything. Wonderful. I can't formulate a proper description of him, as I am heartbreakingly overwhelmed. So overwhelmed, in fact, that I find my priorities slipping like sand from my thoughts in favor of his image, which isn't exactly a good development given where I'm going, but I digress. Onward, then, to the more offensive part of this paragraph, that being where I pathetically and inexcusably explain that I had no idea of Avon until very recently. News of him arrived via a missive from Mikoto, the details of which shocked and horrified me. Not because there is anything horrible in Avon, obviously, but because I am… I cannot begin to describe the despair that has assaulted me over this entire affair. And while_ ~~_depression and_ ~~ _other low sorts of moods have become quite familiar to me these last years, I can't claim that anything has ever hit me so hard as this news._

_I am… devastated._

_It was wholly irresponsible of me, to have abandoned my obligations otherwise to come and see him, but I simply had to. No matter the cost, I had to see him. If only for a few hours, I—_

_I'm falling into emotionality and while I don't think that a bad thing, I must admit it is a mindset I cannot afford to indulge in at the current time. I must persist and endure and a plethora of other synonyms that come so effortlessly from the mouths of those who have no dealings in such things._

_In any case, I am truly sorry about this whole situation. For not being there. For not knowing. Excuses that must ultimately be insufficient, as I would have no need of them had I acted as I ought to have from the beginning._ ~~_No, not as I ought to have—as I had originally felt I should have. But, then, what room is there for feelings?_ ~~

_As it has been over seven years since last we saw one another, I have no way to gauge your own views of me, nor how your feelings toward me have developed. I fear that this part of the letter may be addressing that which could be misconstrued as untoward or problematic given the distance that now exists between us, but I know no other way of raising the subject. So while my script may be formal, I prepare you now for a sort of candidness that would likely be considered wholly inappropriate between two people of our stations._ ~~_Or something equally ridiculous, because what is station and class and such, really, given our history? but then, I find myself so insecure these days that I have no desire to cause you any sort of offense, so I suppose I feel obligated to address every potential base despite how my common sense tells me there is no need._ ~~

_In any case,_

_I would start by telling you that I'd always intended to return_ ~~_to you_ ~~ _to Alexandria. For many years, that was, indeed, the goal on the forefront of my mind. I kept telling myself, one day more. One task left. One hill left to climb. And yet, for every hill I climbed, I found a mountain range awaiting me on the other side. Until it'd been a whole year, and then two, and then three. It was at this point—on the cusp of four years—that the anxiety of it all plunged me into a misery so acute that I hardly remember at all the things I did. I know I must have been working, but my mind was so—The thought of seeing you, of going home to you, was what kept me going for so long that when I was faced with the notion that perhaps it was too late, I…_

_There are many reasons why I never contacted you. Why I never sent word, or sent word along with someone else. Initially, it was excuses I fed myself—that the uncertainty of my situation meant I couldn't give you a clear idea of what was to happen. There are many days I thought, this is it. This is what will finish me off. Thank Gaia I hadn't sent you word, because then I wouldn't have strung you along, thinking someday I would be able to go to you. It was weakness and fear that drove such thoughts, and pride, I suppose. I wanted to finish the job I had started, so as to begin fresh again, but the work was never-ending and, inevitably, desperation overcame such immature sentiments. I drafted you a letter, once upon a time. I stormed off on another day, in a fit of frustration, determined to abandon everything myself and so many thousands of others had built. Yet, reason and altruism prevailed—as they always seem to._

_From Mikoto's mouth, I couldn't abandon a people that had come to depend so wholly upon me not only as a leader, but as a moral compass. What lesson would that teach these thousands of developing souls—what sort of scar would that leave in their historical psyche? I couldn't leave. I couldn't give up._ ~~_I still can't, though it will likely be what kills me._ ~~ _So I thought, it's been four years. If I can't go back, then certainly I must send word._

_Yet, now—or then, rather—there were political rules at play. Politics that I had agreed to and would make me a hypocrite to break. It'd been agreed upon by myself and those under me—those working with me—that we would refrain from having any contact with the peoples of Gaia until the terran community as a whole could withstand any potential abuses. It wasn't a matter of me agreeing with such sentiments—though I do, in fact, see their validity—as it was the mere fact that I had previously agreed to abide by them. I had a responsibility to uphold what was then a teetering organization of government. A government that, at its center, was me, no matter my feelings on the matter._

_It came to me, then, the reality that what had previously been between us was over. I had been silent too long and paid the price, and now was so swathed in expectations and responsibilities that I couldn't give in to my own selfish desires. Which I suppose must be a very foreign concept, given what you likely remember of me. But if it makes any of this clearer, I oftentimes find myself thinking on you as an example. What would_ ~~_Dagger_ ~~ _Garnet do? She would think of her people. She would be the leader they need her to be. I watched you learn the lessons that I have had to now endure without actually understanding them, my natural temperament being so in contrast with it all that it's been exceedingly painful, forcing myself to "grow" in this direction. That I care as deeply as I do only makes it worse—harder to pull away. I suppose I would rather put myself through incredible suffering than inflict even a fraction of that on the people depending upon me._ ~~_Or so I have been living these last three years. My desires are no concept, I have grown to accept. There is a bigger picture, which I loathe, but must begrudgingly acknowledge—because it is my job and my life now to do so._ ~~

_Yet, even so…_

_There is not a day that goes by that I do not think of you. Oftentimes, when I find myself in rare moments of slowness, it is to you that my thoughts wander. And learning of Avon has only increased that tenfold in recent days. To the point where I have done that which I swore to myself and others I never would. I have endangered more than just my own livelihood upon the selfish desire to see the son I had no idea I had, which in turn leads me to thoughts of you, and thus the two concepts are an ever-revolving door in my head._

_I would have you know that I never stopped loving you. I know not the value of that knowledge to you now—perhaps it is a silly passion you have moved on from, for which I would not blame you. And perhaps, as the fellow sovereign that I now find myself to be, I have done us a great embarrassment by revealing the truth. But no matter the value you find in this admission, I feel as though I owe you that truth. Well, I owe you much more than that, but it is all I can give you now._ ~~_Sometimes, I feel as if this love that I have of you is all that remains of who I once was—that it is the only bit of me that hasn't been swallowed whole. Perhaps I cling to it unnecessarily, I don't know._ ~~

_For now, then, I suppose it is best to wrap up. There is, naturally, more that I desire to say and discuss with you, but I have already spent more than the allotted time I initially allowed myself to pen this letter, and so I must bend. I had intended to write a second draft, excluding all that I scratched out, but time grows short. Valuable time that I cannot begin to measure as far as the day that stretches ahead of me. I will lean, then, on the previous intimacy shared between us in the hopes that anything I have relayed in this letter that is outside what I intended you to see be viewed through that lens._

_There is plenty to be discussed between us outside our personal affairs—or so Mikoto has led me to believe. Therefore, I doubt it will be long before we're communicating once again. Until then, I leave you with the confidence that I have every intention of addressing any and all that you feel needs to be attended between us._

_Please note that I, as both the man you once knew and the man I have become, am a friend and ally to you, which I hope can guide us into the coming months._

_- ~~King~~_ _Zidane_

Garnet did not read the letter a second time. Instead, she closed her eyes and sunk some into the plushness of the mattress. She ran the letter's contents through her head, combing through both what had been made abundantly clear as well as everything perceivable between the lines.

She did not cry, though a great many things he'd said pulled at the swelling emotion inside of her. There were judgements to be made, of course, and personal hurts to address, but above all that, she was queen of Alexandria. She did not voice this to herself so as to be in conflict with the letter, but as a means of bringing forth her own experience. To view the letter from beyond the opinion of a jaded lover.

It was clear to her that the situation was entirely too complex to justify a strictly emotional response. So much else was churning beneath the surface, so much that could not be ignored in favor of placing blame.

"Beatrix," she found herself saying some time later, eyes opening again as she reshuffled the pages in her lap. Beatrix was at the top of the stairs a second later, looking both strict and unruffled, which was a small sort of comfort. "Please," Garnet said and held the letter out to her. "Read this and tell me what you make of it."

Nodding, Beatrix made her way swiftly to the bed. Taking the letter, she stepped back to read it beneath the sunlight streaming in from the high windows. While Garnet—schooled in the art of patience—made no move to think or act in one fashion or another, instead contenting herself to watch Beatrix.

She knew when her general had finished by the tight, humming sigh she released.

"Yes?" Garnet asked.

"My thoughts?" Beatrix asked.

Garnet nodded.

"On what part? That which is printed or everything that is not?"

"Both," Garnet said sternly.

Beatrix took a deep breath. "I suppose that, if there was ever a reason to be too busy to write, the founding of an entire nation fulfills that quota. His initial reasons were immature, as he notes, but his latter reasons I think create a more complex problem. We've spoken with the terrans enough to know that they hang on every word their king speaks. That they worship him as one does a deity, and so it would be a difficult balance to maintain, being the symbol he has become. If I was in his position and had millions of lives swaying beneath my influence, I might also be apt to submit to the laws put in place by and for those people. It would certainly have done very poorly in setting any kind of example for him to exercise his power in a manner that contradicts the very order he himself has helped and been a head in establishing. Especially given that the person he would seek to contact was another sovereign, whose influence over him would be more overt than the options otherwise."

"Because it could create a rift between him and his people, valuing his own desires when they are so in contradiction to the laws put in place to protect his people," Garnet said.

"Yes. You are no insignificant person and the terrans are in a very delicate phase of establishing not just their society, but the leadership within that society. Zidane, for whatever strength his people see in him, is as equally vulnerable. I think he recognizes that."

"It's not a matter of playing it safe, but of thinking of the future of his people and the laws that will govern their to-come traditions." Laws that, on her end, Garnet knew impacted every action she took in every moment of her life. She'd been raised in it and had always been aware of these expectations, even when she'd gone out of her way to thwart them. Whatever it was Zidane and his people had built, it was new and it was raw. Pulsating openly without the protection of long-standing security. Every step he took, every word he said, every decision he made, was setting a precedent for everyone that came after him. His example, therefore, was of paramount importance. Where Garnet could disregard the rules because the standard still existed outside her—in Alexandria's history—Zidane _was_ the standard. Which made it all the more important that he follow and live by the rules being established. Especially if he was in support of those rules. He did, as Akitis had said, hold absolute power. But even so, to act out in ways that contradicted that established power would leave him weakened. More vulnerable than he already was.

"Then he was right to stay away," Garnet said after a long pause.

"I think that, given what he was dealing with and the situation he ended up in, from the perspective of a monarch, he did what was best," Beatrix said slowly. "Clearly, it isn't what he wanted."

"Right…" Garnet tapped her fingers upon her thighs. "And what of everything else?"

"Everything that he didn't say?" Beatrix asked.

Garnet nodded.

"I think… he's drowning."

Which was a conclusion Garnet had come to as well, but that she'd been trying desperately not to accept. She'd been there. She knew that feeling. Which meant she also knew how hard it was to scrape her way back to the surface.

"It's a lot of pressure, being the champion of an entire population," Beatrix continued. "While it does grant him more power over his people than neither you nor Cid can boast of, it does offer up other challenges. I would wager that he has… next to no one truly in his circle. He may have people in his confidence, but if they truly do default to his opinion on any matter he voices it on, then he must lead a very lonely, isolated existence. That isn't to say that challenges do not come to his rule, as I doubt Mikoto is one to keep her mouth shut, but his situation is still precarious."

"Where I have you and others for support, then, you're saying, he has no one," Garnet established.

"I would find it hard to believe that he does," she affirmed. "Even Akitis, who claims to be close to him, does not seem the type that would try to pull him back. Given how the terrans speak of him, I would assume that Zidane over-exerting himself in the name of doing what needs to be done has become not just the norm, but the expected."

"Then, you doubt anyone would notice if he was struggling," Garnet reasoned.

"I would imagine his people would watch him kill himself trying to do the 'right thing' and then be surprised about the turn of events."

"A precarious situation indeed," Garnet agreed.

"There is more, however," Beatrix continued. "This line here, at the end, where he claims to be a friend and ally to you—it is far more diplomatic than any other part of the letter."

"I noted that as well."

"Though he masks such a statement in personal sentimentality, Zidane is no fool. While I never knew him so well as you or Steiner, he has always been very sharp witted and exceedingly intelligent. He is very much aware of his station, thus a comment like this cannot be taken lightly."

"Then he is swearing to a friendship with Alexandria, not just myself," Garnet said, having already come to that conclusion.

"Whatever such a thing can amount to," Beatrix said. "He is opening the door, in any case. Though to what end is entirely up to you."

"It isn't entirely," Garnet disagreed. "This whole situation has become… infinitely more complicated." And would continue to get worse, as far as she could tell.

"I would imagine Zidane is equally aware of that, which is why he made this comment at all," Beatrix said.

Standing, Garnet paced beside the bed, silent for some time as she contemplated. That Zidane, King of Terra, was Avon's father could not be contained. After his visit the night before, the terrans would be fully aware of the implications. And when her own people learned who the leader of this other nation was, they'd put the pieces together as well. What could prove the most complicated about the whole thing was that Alexandria was under the impression that she and Zidane were married. Which left her with a few potential options. One was to dissolve the marriage in the advent of Zidane aligning his loyalties elsewhere. This had… never been done. There'd never been reason. No other consort had ever left to found their own nation. And while Garnet and Zidane's marriage had eventually been recognized by the court of Alexandria—after years of petitions and public outcry—it was not an Alexandrian certified marriage, which meant the rules of Zidane's conduct could not be governed under Alexandrian expectations. He couldn't be considered treasonous, therefore, for aligning himself otherwise.

On the other hand, if she kept to the marriage, other opportunities presented themselves. It would provide a tight alliance between Alexandria and Terra. There had been similar alliances in the far past, specifically between Alexandria and Lindblum, but they were hardly relevant within the last two-hundred years. Still, a precedent existed. One that would put Alexandria and Terra on the map as sister countries, at least from the Alexandrian perspective. Which, if handled carefully, could prove lucrative. Though Lindblum and Alexandria were close again—despite the recent war—there _were_ tensions. The Lindblum elite tended to look down on Alexandria as being technologically and socially behind, which wasn't incorrect, but it did cause a bit of a rift. If Terra and Alexandria were to become sister nations, then technological advancements for Alexandria would be more welcomed. Perhaps the courtiers would even desist digging their heels in, if the advancements came from a place less patronizing.

It was possible, as the trade goods Terra was most looking for were things Alexandria could provide just as well as Lindblum. But, if they were to make this leap, it could potentially sour relations between Alexandria and Lindblum, as well as potential relations between Terra and Lindblum.

All that aside, she had no idea how Terra would react to the news that she and Zidane were married. She didn't even know what terrans thought of marriage or their customs surrounding it. But it would have to come to a head, because Garnet couldn't deny the marriage, not in the current state of her own affairs. And if Zidane denied it, that would… It's be a very difficult situation, to say the least. Yet, even if she didn't want to believe that he would, without knowing more about the terran culture surrounding such things, it was difficult to gauge. If claiming marriage with Garnet did damage to Zidane among his own people, then he might have little choice.

On the other hand, however, was Avon. Avon was… the linchpin. He couldn't be denied or ignored. Though, if the terrans viewed his existence as something undesirable, they may choose not to affiliate him with their royal line. Which was neither here nor there, as Avon was heir apparent to Alexandria anyway and so could not viably also be heir to Terra. Well, he could be, but Garnet would prefer another course. That being, the creation of another heir that would then be brought up as Terra's heir apparent—if Terra was accepting of an heir that was not wholly terran at all and second-born. With Terra being so new and possessing sentiments that were so against affiliations with other kingdoms, she found it doubtful that Avon would be allowed to inherit both. They may not even welcome another child between her and Zidane, for that matter, but if they did…

Despite herself, Garnet found herself blushing at the idea. If she and Zidane were to make the most of their alliance, having more children between the two of them would be inevitable. In fact, they'd likely have to have more than just the two. If their second-born was to be heir to Terra, then Alexandria would—at the very least—expect a third. A spare, so to speak. The only reason this wasn't expected of her now was because of the complications surrounding her marriage. And while she couldn't be sure of Terra's expectations of such things, it would not be out the question that even a fourth— _another_ spare—be expected on their side.

That was four children. Which was… more than she needed to be thinking about at the moment, as she was getting a bit ahead of herself—getting too deep into potentials that might never come to fruition.

It was strange, really, because Avon—while an accident—has been made from love. Young and passionate and meaningful love. Yet, here she was, thinking of his potential siblings like an obligation. Like sleeping with the man she'd never stopped loving was a potential job instead of a personal expectation.

No, she needed to stop thinking on that bit. It was getting altogether too personal. Not that the situation wasn't personal, but her grievances as Queen and then as herself were somewhat different.

"You Highness?" Beatrix asked, interjecting herself into Garnet's flitting thoughts. She'd come to a stop in her pacing, which had likely been what had inspired her general to address her.

Huffing, Garnet took another second to stabilize her thoughts. "We have trade negotiations to attend to," she eventually said.

"Yes," Beatrix agreed. "Are you prepared to attend them or shall I report that you are unwell?"

"No." Garnet finally looked at her. "After what happened last night, it would be in very poor taste not to attend." Cid will have put the pieces together, as well as the terrans. If there was any time in which she needed to be fully present, it was then.

"Then we should leave, as the meeting will commence in ten minutes," Beatrix told her, remaining strict. Which Garnet was thankful for. She'd asked her general of her opinion, she'd given it, and now it was back in Garnet's court. Beatrix knew this—knew that this was a situation more in line with Garnet's own training. Experienced in many things Beatrix certainly was, but the ins and outs of diplomacy were less in her vein.

It was a lot of information to digest, leaving much to be considered, but though she was both confused and hurt by recent events, Garnet also found herself invigorated.

This was a game she could play. And if there was anything Zidane had taught her—even if these lessons had slipped from his own psyche in recent years—it was that when she wanted something, she needed to go out and get it.

What she wanted, then, was the question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this chapter kicking around for ages and finally finished the last bit of it, lol. In my attempts to get back into writing. 
> 
> A lot happened this chapter--a lot of things figured out on all sides. There's a lot that I think Garnet has to react to emotionally here, but she's in what I call "Queen Mode." She's sort of keeping her distance emotionally, at least until she can figure out this whirlwind of a situation. 
> 
> And little Avon is so overwelmed too, poor kid. 
> 
> I tried to get Zidane's anxiety and uncertainty across as well, through the letter. Poor guy probably just gave up at the end of that letter, said fuck it, and sent it along as-is. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed! PLEASE leave comments! THANKS!


End file.
